


Softly: Dragon Pox

by starlightpeddler



Series: The Quietly Series [5]
Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Adopted Children, Anxiety, Dragon Pox, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Multi, Post-Canon, Post-Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, character illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-08 14:30:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 46,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14696144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starlightpeddler/pseuds/starlightpeddler
Summary: Six kids, a massive family, and two demanding careers have kept Scorpius and Albus busy. When Albus brings home a new strain of dragon pox, their lives are thrown into disarray and Scorpius finds himself at a crossroads while trying to take care of his family in a crisis.





	1. Pox

**Author's Note:**

> This fic fits into the timeline a little after Softly: Pancakes after the Malfoy-Potters adopted Charlie. New chapters will be published every few days for a couple weeks, and there are 6 chapters total.

Albus hadn't liked teenagers even when he was one. In fact, the only person he'd liked when he was his eldest child's age was Scorpius – he hadn't even liked himself much, and certainly hadn't cared much for his peers at all. So, when he watched his children enter the Three Broomsticks laughing and grinning, he was immensely relieved to see they weren't having a similar experience.

"She's not going to go to the Christmas dance with you," Avery argued with Orion. "She's just not."

"You don't know that," Orion countered.

Lexi chimed in quickly, unwinding her Slytherin scarf from her neck and shaking a few bits of snow from her wild dark curls. "She's the most popular girl in school," Lexi said. "She's not going to date you."

"She might if I'm charming enough and bring gifts," Orion said. Beside him, Avery and Adam looked around until they spotted Albus watching patiently from the corner booth he'd claimed a half hour ago. He would have jumped to his feet to hug them all, but his leg was aching from a scuffle with a Norwegian Ridgeback a few days ago. He waved, and an infectious grin spread across Avery's face as she broke away from the group and rushed towards him.

"Papa!"

She slid into the booth with such velocity that she nearly settled on Albus' lap and threw her arms around his neck. Albus hugged her tight. He hadn't seen his Hogwarts-aged children for nearly two and a half months since he and Scorpius had said goodbye to them on Platform 9¾ and had missed them dearly – especially now when he'd just returned from a week-long assignment at a dragon reservation in Germany and Scorpius was away on ministry business in Canada. It had been a stressful year leading into a harrowing few months for both of them – they'd barely seen one another outside of brief meals and the few minutes before bed and after waking, but Albus knew things were set to improve now that he was back to normal work at his private magical creatures rehabilitation clinic and Scorpius was finishing a major acquisition phase for the Department of International Academic Collaboration. Scorpius was due home in two days' time, and Albus had missed his family so much that he'd decided to come visit the older kids during a Hogsmeade weekend (he'd even had to send special one-time permission slips for Lexi and Adam, who were in their second year). Charlie, Samuel and Will had decided they'd rather spend the day with their Grandpa Draco and Grandma Dania in London, and Albus really couldn't blame them – they always came home from Malfoy shopping trips with the most outrageous gifts.

"It's good to see you," Albus said, letting go of Avery in favor of embracing Lexi and Adam. He kissed the top of Lexi's head and ruffled Adam's hair before reaching across the table and grasping Orion's hand briefly in greeting.

"It's good to see you too, Papa," Adam said.

"Really?" Albus asked. "Aren't you supposed to be embarrassed to be seen with your parents by now?"

"You're not embarrassing," Lexi said.

"Well…" Avery hedged, biting her lip. "He is a little bit."

"When?" Albus asked.

"The time you and Dad sent me flowers for Valentine's Day?"

"Or the time you sent us those custom singing Howlers just before Christmas," Adam added.

"I suppose showing up and demanding to see me after that flying accident was pretty embarrassing," Lexi admitted.

"That was mostly your Dad," Albus defended. "And you know why he's touchy about it."

"It doesn't matter," Lexi said. "You walked into the Great Hall during dinner."

Albus didn't want to tell her that the letter they'd received from the school nurse had been horribly vague and had sent Scorpius into a bit of a panic, or that he'd tried and failed to get his husband to calm down before walking into the Great Hall to find their daughter, who was only nursing a few cuts and bruises hours after the incident.

"Albus," Orion began, leaning across the table. "I'm trying to get Harriet to go to the Christmas dance with me. She's your cousin – how can I convince her?"

Albus laughed, wrapping his hands around his warm Butterbeer. He'd caught quite a chill on the walk up to the Three Broomsticks and the small mid-November snow flurry hadn't helped him. The warmth of the glass seeped into his palms.

"I'm not the best person to ask," Albus said.

"Oh, come on," Orion groaned. "You do cute stuff with my brother _all the time_ and he loves it."

All three of the Malfoy-Potter children gagged in unison at the thought. Albus gave Avery a gentle shove in response.

"You really shouldn't be asking your brother's husband for dating advice," Albus said. "Besides, you know the story. We just kind of… fell into a relationship."

"Yeah, that sounds good," Orion said eagerly. "Teach me how to do that."

"She'd have to actually like you first," Lexi pointed out. She was sandwiched between Orion and Adam, and Adam had sunk back into his seat with his arms wrapped around his middle. While Orion argued with the girls, Albus leaned over to talk to Adam.

"You doing okay?' Albus asked. Though it was some relief that Adam and Lexi were in the same year, Albus still worried about Adam the most – especially when he sent home letters with shaky handwriting. That was the first sign that he was struggling with anxiety again.

"I'm alright," Adam said with a shrug. "I'm having trouble with Charms and Transfiguration this year."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Adam shook his head, pulling off his Ravenclaw scarf and setting it atop Avery's. Albus noticed that Orion hadn't yet removed his, and it was fastened more like a tie than a scarf. He shook his head, forcibly reminded of Scorpius doing the same when he was young.

"I think I'll be okay," Adam said. "It helps that Lexi is in some of my classes."

"Okay, but if you need help just let me know," Albus said. "We can arrange for a private tutor and if you don't want anyone to know, that's okay."

At that, Adam smiled appreciatively. It didn't quite reach his eyes, and Albus noticed he looked terribly tired and drawn. "Thanks, Papa."

Albus wanted to hug him. Adam had been a very cuddly child – even more than his older sisters – but Albus didn't want to embarrass him in a room full of his fellow students. A tight hug and some extra spending money for sweets at Honeydukes would have to suffice when they parted company.

The barmaid, who Albus knew to be Madam Rosmerta's niece and an avid lover of Kneazles, appeared and Albus ordered enough food and drinks to keep the kids happy. It was selfish, he knew, to bribe them into spending time with him with the promise of greasy pub food, but it was the only ploy he had and he'd missed them so much.

"How is Dad?" Lexi asked after their food and drinks arrived. After switching places with Adam, she ripped a piece off one of the pretzels and took a big bite of it, eyeing Avery and Orion's Butterbeer with envy. She was nearly thirteen and would soon be able to order her own, but Albus supposed that wasn't much consolation for a child who loved everything Butterbeer-flavored when she was stuck with hot chocolate.

"He's good," Albus said. "We've both been busy with work –"

"You're _always_ busy with work," Lexi interrupted. "Do you know how many times we had dinner with both of you from start to finish last summer? Fifteen. I counted."

Albus cringed. "I know," he said with remorse. "It's been an odd few months, but I think it's getting better."

"I hope so," Lexi said. "Dad wasn't very happy when we left for school."

Albus sighed. The last week of August had been rough for Scorpius at work and he'd been exhausted when they'd taken the kids to King's Cross. He'd gone straight back to the office after the train was gone.

"I'll be home for all of Christmas break, just working with the rehab creatures," Albus assured her. "And your dad is going to take some time off so he's home more too."

 _He’d better_ , Albus thought, making a mental note to talk to Scorpius about it when he came home. He missed Scorpius so much that he was even looking forward to a potentially uncomfortable conversation.

"Yeah, okay," Lexi said. It was clear she didn't believe him as she looked down into her mug of hot chocolate, despondent. Lexi was normally happy and energetic, so whenever she became sad it hit Albus hard.

"We will," Albus assured her. "I promise. It'll be the best Christmas we've ever had. And it's only a little more than a month away. It's what? The sixteenth?"

"Seventeenth," Adam corrected. Albus hadn't realized Adam had been listening, but he saw the same sadness in Adam's eyes too. His heart sank.

"I didn't realize we'd been that… disjointed," Albus confessed.

"Are we talking about the summer?" Avery asked, leaning back over towards Albus. She'd been talking to Orion, and whatever she'd said had clearly put Orion in a bad mood. He slumped down in his seat, and Albus suspected she'd shut down another one of his ridiculous ideas for wooing Harriet Lupin.

"Yes," Lexi said.

"Oh, yeah. Summer was awful," Avery said. "I _hated_ it. We were barely all together. You and Dad were hardly in the same room. I started to wonder if something was wrong."

Adam's eyes widened at the suggestion and his gaze snapped back to Albus.

"No, no. Everything is fine," Albus assured him quickly. "Nothing's wrong with your dad and I. I promise."

Lexi raised her eyebrows, not convinced as she took another huge bite from the pretzel.

Clearly, the kids had discussed this after departing for Hogwarts and for the first time in years Albus felt out of touch with his children. He and Scorpius tried so hard to be aware of what they were doing and how the kids were affected by everything, and now Albus began to wonder if he was a good father at all if he'd barely taken notice of how little time he and Scorpius had spent with their kids together during summer break. Albus looked between the three of them, feeling more than a little lost.

"I'm sorry," was all Albus could say. "Scorpius and I didn't mean…"

He trailed off, brought down by Avery, Adam and Lexi's inability to meet his eyes. They were both so smart and so mature that sometimes he forgot they were only twelve, and by virtue of being the oldest Avery often seemed like a particularly small adult, and they'd spent so much of the year previous helping Charlie with the emotional turmoil left in her mother's wake and the fiasco of her adoption that maybe he'd forgotten to spend extra time with the other kids.

Albus took a sip of his Butterbeer, not knowing what else to do. Fortunately, Avery spoke up and, as always, seemed to save the day.

"Well, just don't let it happen again," she said in a mock-scolding tone that sounded far too much like Albus' mother for his liking. He smiled at her and set his mug down with shaking hands when he saw that her smirk didn't meet her eyes. No amount of Butterbeer seemed to be able to warm him, and he felt a strange weight starting to settle in his chest, making him deeply uncomfortable. He supposed that was the price he paid for letting his children down.

"We'll make it up to you," Albus said. "I promise."

That seemed to be enough for Adam and Avery, but Lexi didn't perk up. Albus wracked his brain for what to do, and decided the best course of action was the most basic one available. He slid his mug of Butterbeer over to her.

"I'm not supposed to," Lexi said, though Albus knew she had Butterbeer all the time in small amounts at her grandparents' homes.

"I won't tell if you don’t," Albus said with a conspiratorial wink. Lexi grinned and drank deeply from the mug. Albus hoped the warm sensation from the Butterbeer would help her feel better, at least for a moment, and when she slid over after finishing the drink and lay her head against his shoulder, listening to Avery, Adam and Orion argue about the virtues of their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Albus hoped he was forgiven.

* * *

Exhaustion had settled into Scorpius' bones a week ago, and as he trudged up the path to the house on a dreary Monday afternoon in November, he could think of little more than a few hugs from his children, his husband's cooking, a long, hot shower and some sleep. His feet felt heavy and his hands were cold, but he didn't have the energy to fish his gloves out from the depths of his coat. Another two minutes, and he'd be inside with Charlie clinging to his waist, Samuel chattering on about whatever he was into this week, and Will begging for another dog while Albus forced a cup of tea on him. Another two minutes and life would be back to normal, or as close to normal as it had been this hectic year.

Usually, Scorpius loved his job. He had a mission – one that really mattered – and he was in a position to make the wizarding world a better place for his children and for the future. Most of the time, he was happy with his work, but lately it had been trying with several wizarding governments worldwide making attempts to protect academic information as proprietary. It was making his life very difficult and had kept him away from home three times as much as normal, but he was hoping things would calm down now – hoping he could go back to his quieter life. Maybe he could take a few days off next week and spend them at home with the kids – surely they would like that...

Scorpius trudged up the steps, shivering as he passed through the last of the considerable wards he and Albus had set up around the house. It was a brief buzzing that never failed to bother him, and normally Albus took them down when he knew Scorpius was coming in. Scorpius checked his watch – he was right on time, so Albus should have been expecting him.

 _Don't be selfish_ , Scorpius thought as he unlocked the door. _Just because he works on our property half the time doesn't mean he's not terribly busy too._

He entered the front hall and lay briefcase on the ground and hung his robes on the rack. The house was silent and Scorpius listened closely for signs of life.  Silence. Maybe they'd gone to visit Albus' parents and had lost track of time?

"Albus?" Scorpius called into the house, unbuttoning his waistcoat. The air was terribly warm and still and it gave Scorpius an uneasy feeling. Clearly, someone had cast a heating charm, which was unusual. Even when he was alone, Albus preferred to sit by the fire than use heating charms on the house (he called them "stuffy" and "unnecessary").

"Charlie! Samuel! Will!"

A few seconds of silence followed before a tapping and the clanging of small metal tags rang down the hall. Ridgebit, their English Shepherd, appeared a moment later, barreling down the corridor at full speed, her paws sliding on the smooth wooden floor.

"Oh, no," Scorpius muttered, fully expecting to be flattened by the dog. He braced himself for an impact that never came as Ridgebit stopped short and barked up at him.

"Oh, shush," he said, finally admitting to himself that he was truly alone. He gave Ridgebit a quick scratch behind her ears and walked past her toward the kitchen. He'd nearly made it through the cavernous living room where the fireplace was lit with dying flames to the rarely-used dining room when Ridgebit barked again and followed at his side, nudging his legs with every step. Scorpius staggered into the wall and glared at her.

"Give me a minute," he said, his tone sharper than normal. "Just let me get my tea."

Scorpius pushed past her into the kitchen where a discarded mug of tea sat cold on the counter. Beside it, a half-eaten bowl of soup was overturned, its contents covering a good portion of the island Albus usually reserved for food prep.

Scorpius frowned. Albus never left the kitchen like this and the kids would have never left such a mess in Albus' sacred cooking space.

He drew his wand and cleared his throat, preparing to tidy up before venturing out to the barn (where he would surely find Albus distracted with some critical case like a dog with curse damage or a diseased niffler). Ridgebit wasn't having it however, and began barking at him, bouncing up and down on her front paws, her eyes wild and alert.

"What is it?" Scorpius asked, lowering his wand. He considered the dog's brown eyes as if she would answer him with clear, concise words, and received only more barking and bouncing. Scorpius sighed, dropping his hands to his sides in frustration. He couldn't think to start with and now something was clearly off and the dog wouldn't shut up. He looked up to the ceiling in exasperation. This wasn't what he needed right now.

He was only allowed to wallow in self-pity for a moment, however. Ridgebit bit his hand – hard enough to hurt, but not hard enough to break the skin, and he yelped in surprise. Ridgebit wasn't a biter.

"Hey!" he yelled, jumping back. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had to discipline the dog – it had probably been at least a year, as she was remarkably well behaved, especially with the children – so instead of reacting, he just stared in shock. Ridgebit, to her credit, simply stared back.

"What the hell…" Scorpius muttered, holding his offended hand. It dawned on Scorpius that something was severely wrong – the house was still and too-warm and Ridgebit, the most emotionally-intelligent animal he'd ever seen, was clearly reacting to something.

"Show me," Scorpius said, and began to walk from the kitchen.

Just as he expected, Ridgebit ran ahead of him, barking madly and looking back every few seconds to ensure he was following. Scorpius stayed close behind her, mindful of each weary step. He followed her down the hall and to the ajar basement door. The lower level of the house had been converted into a library to save space after they'd adopted Samuel and Will. Scorpius and Albus kept saying they'd build an addition to house all the books Scorpius had collected over the years but they never seemed to find the time between work, the kids, and their families.

Ridgebit nudged the door open and bounded down the steep stairs. Scorpius followed, his pace slowed in an effort to avoid tripping and falling and his heart picking up pace as Ridgebit's barking intensified.

The room below was lined with books and was lit by enchanted, unbreakable lanterns that Hermione had charmed to only need relighting annually. It was a warm room with a massive mahogany desk that Scorpius had left covered in papers and a closed, lead-lined laptop that he used sparingly. The desk sat atop a large Persian rug that covered most of the unfinished wood floor, and atop the Persian rug lay Albus, unmoving and pale.

Scorpius' eyes widened and he jumped over the bottom stair, his weariness suddenly overtaken by worry.  He nearly tripped over himself as he scrambled to Albus' side and knelt down, tossing his wand down onto the floor beside him.

"Albus?" he hissed, patting his husband's cheek, gentle at first and then with more force as Albus didn't stir.

Albus' face was both splotchy and drained of color, and there were deep, dark circles under his eyes. His hair was more of a mess than normal and looked like it hadn't been washed for several days. Scorpius looked him over and once Ridgebit stopped barking he heard Albus' breathing. It was strained and shallow. There was a rattle coming from Albus' lungs that clearly said he was congested.

 _Illness, not injury_ , Scorpius thought and seized Albus' shoulders, shaking them roughly.

"Albus? Come on," Scorpius said, his voice firm and loud. "Wake up."

Albus groaned, but barely twitched under Scorpius' hands.

"Al, please."

Albus' eyes opened to show a sliver of green surrounded by red. His eyes were entirely bloodshot and discolored, and Scorpius gathered Albus up to rest across his legs.

"You have to tell me what's wrong," Scorpius said, his voice shaking. "I can't help if I don't know what's wrong."

Albus opened his mouth but only a strangled sound came out. He took another shallow breath – Scorpius suspected it was the best he could do – and croaked out a single word.

"Lexi."

"Lexi? What about her?”

Albus' unfocused gaze shifted up to the desk where several pieces of parchment sat precariously on the edge. Scorpius snatched one and unfolded the note, pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, and was immediately alarmed to see the school nurse's signature scrawled on the bottom.

_Malfoy-Potters,_

_I'm writing to inform you that Lexi has taken ill and has been transported to St. Mungo's Hospital as of this morning. Her illness is severe and her condition has deteriorated beyond what the school facilities can accommodate._

_Please let me know if you have any questions, or if I can be of any assistance._

_Sincerely,_

_Savannah Finnigan-Thomas_

Scorpius stared at the note for a moment longer, and then dropped it to wrap his arms back around Albus, whose eyes were beginning to slip shut again.

"Don't you dare," Scorpius said, his voice wavering even more. He'd only heard of students being sent to the hospital from Hogwarts on two or three occasions, and they were all terribly severe. Lexi was ill and alone, and Albus was nearly unconscious in his arms.

"Sorry," Albus breathed, and dropped his head against Scorpius' shoulder with a painfully ragged breath. Scorpius shook him again, but Albus didn't stir. He was unconscious, and his head lolled back against Scorpius' arm, exposing his neck.

Along the left side was a patch of discolored, rough skin. It was a deep, dark purple that would have looked like a bruise where it not for the rough ring of skin dotted with small greenish bumps surrounding it.

"Merlin," Scorpius muttered. He knew Albus had visited the kids at Hogsmeade, so Lexi being sick couldn’t be unrelated. Were the rest of the kids sick too? Was this fatal? Was he going to lose his husband and his children all at once?

Scorpius looked down at Albus' unconscious face, trying to sort through his fear and figure out what to do. His hands were shaking and he wasn't confident in his ability to levitate him without hurting him – besides, he had no idea what Albus was ill with and if it would interact with simple spells.

"St. Mungo's," Scorpius said to himself. He felt around blindly for his wand and grappled for the handle when he found it, his eyes flickering from Albus' unconscious face to the gruesome mark on his neck.

Scorpius took a deep, calming breath and searched for a happy memory. He dug deep, and thought of one of the few nights over the summer when his family was all together – all the kids, Albus, Orion, Harry, Ginny, Draco and Dania were all in their living room, laughing and playing games, crammed onto couches and sitting on cushions on the floor. The kids were happy and together, and Albus seemed most content when they were all in one place, well-fed and safe in their care. Albus had wrapped a thin blanket around Scorpius' shoulders when he'd started to nod off and had wrapped his arms around Scorpius' shoulders in the process, kissing his cheek as everyone had laughed at one of Orion's jokes.

" _Expecto Patronum_ ," Scorpius said, and a great silvery dragon formed in front of him, beating its wings without disrupting the air, and looked to him, awaiting orders. Scorpius consulted his watch.

"Go to Dania," Scorpius said. "Tell her Albus is ill and to meet us at the Floo connection in St. Mungo's. We'll be there momentarily. She should be at the hospital now."

The dragon inclined its massive, shimmering head and flew away, disappearing through a bookcase and through the wall to deliver the message.

Scorpius looked down to Albus and swallowed hard. His heavy breathing seemed so labored, and though he was unconscious he looked pained, his eyelids twitching every few seconds.

Time was limited, Scorpius knew, so he slid one arm under Albus' back and the other around his knees. He could feel more rough patches of skin through the thin fabric of Albus' t-shirt. Albus was the stronger of them – it wasn't a secret – and he was more dense and heavy by virtue of that strength, but Scorpius wasn't weak. With great effort, he lifted Albus off the ground, struggling against his dead weight as he stood. He nearly dropped Albus as he got to his feet, but scrambled to adjust his weight, holding him tight as he could. Albus' head fell against Scorpius' shoulder and he let out a small, pained groan.

"It's going to be okay," Scorpius said as he started up the stairs, though he knew Albus couldn't hear him. Albus' weight made each step a struggle, and by the time Scorpius made it to the top of the stairs and to the fireplace, he was completely winded.

Scorpius stumbled over to the fireplace, his arms nearly shaking from nerves and holding Albus up, and looked down at the pot of Floo powder sitting by the fireplace. He shifted his weight and kicked it over, nudging some of the powder into the fireplace with the toe of his shoe. He kicked the powder forward until enough of it fell into the small flames.

The fireplace roared to life with bright emerald flames and Scorpius shifted Albus in his arms, making sure he was secure before stepping in, letting the flames lick up his ankles and legs. It was normally an odd sensation, but Scorpius couldn't pay much attention to it. He was too focused on his husband's unconscious form and trembling eyelids.

"St. Mungo's," Scorpius directed toward the flames, and he held tight to Albus as they spun through the network and stepped out at the St. Mungo's main intake connection.

A few witches and wizards were milling about in the lobby, some appearing to be in various degrees of discomfort, but Scorpius ignored all of them. Dania stood in the center of the atrium in her lime green robes, her dark hair twisted back into a knot at the nape of her neck.

"Good Lord," she said as she spotted them, her eyes wide as she spotted Albus. Her fear was telling - not much frightened Dania when it came to medical issues. She was a natural healer – something Scorpius had appreciated many times when she'd healed his kids' cuts and scrapes with a smile and impeccable bedside manner.

But something about the sight of Albus had rattled her. She rushed over and reached out to touch him, but thought better of it and reached deep inside her robes as she called to a group of nurses.

"I need a stretcher," Dania called to them. "Quickly."

Dania withdrew a pair of sturdy dragon hide gloves and pulled them on, securing them around her wrists before taking Albus by the jaw and turning his head to get a better look at the discolored skin of his neck.

"Damn," Dania muttered.

"What?" Scorpius asked, truly panicking. His arms began to shake under Albus' weight as three nurses came over, a floating stretcher suspended between them. One of them – an older man with a bald head and long, black beard – saw Albus' neck and gasped.

"What is it?" Scorpius demanded. Another of the nurses brought the stretcher in front of Scorpius and the other, very gently, levitated Albus from Scorpius' arms. Scorpius watched Albus' limp arms fall to his sides and his head roll back, exposing his neck. He looked so vulnerable and Scorpius felt so helpless that his hands, now empty, dropped to his sides.

"I wasn't there," he muttered to no one in particular. Dania, who had bent over Albus to inspect him while the others backed away warily, looked up at him.

"Did you touch his skin?" Dania asked.

"Why does that matter?" Scorpius asked. "Where is Lexi?"

"Did you touch his skin?" Dania demanded, straightening at Albus' side. Her brown eyes were wide and fearful, and Scorpius looked down at Albus. It didn't occur to him that if Albus _and_ Lexi were ill that whatever they had would be contagious.

"I might have," Scorpius said. "I'm not sure. I didn't touch the… whatever that was."

"But you did carry him from your house," Dania said, drawing her wand. She looked to the nurses. "Take him to the Intensive Care Unit and put him in a containment room," she said. "Do not touch him."

Scorpius moved to follow them, but Dania blocked his path, careful not to lay her hands on him.

"Scorpius, you need to come with me," she said.

"What?" Scorpius asked. It was unfathomable that she would stop him from going with his husband. Dania had known them since long before their wedding, and had been a constant in Scorpius' life since he was seventeen. He'd been elated when she'd married Draco and loved that she'd become a part of his family and had given him his younger brother, Orion, who Scorpius thought was the seventh most wonderful kid in the world.

But now, Scorpius looked down at his step mother, and her drawn wand, and in that moment he hated her more than he'd ever hated anyone because she stood between him and Albus and Lexi, and that was unacceptable.

"Get out of my way," Scorpius said, his voice low and threatening.

"Scorpius, you need to listen –"

"I need to go with Albus and I need to see Lexi."

"Lexi is in the children's Intensive Care Unit. I'd just found out she was here less than an hour before you contacted me. I've already seen her."

"And?"

"I'll tell you if you'll walk with me to the quarantine room."

" _Quarantine_?"

"It's a new strain of dragon pox," Dania explained. "There's been a few cases reported at the preserve in Germany and it's been isolated there, but Albus and Lexi are the first cases reported here and we're trying to stop it from spreading and we don't know how this particular strain spreads yet."

"Dragon pox?" Scorpius asked. He could feel the color drain from his face as memories of his Grandmother Narcissa and Grandfather Lucius' funeral came forward. They'd been killed by a freak strain of dragon pox when he was young after traveling abroad. The pox had worked quickly and efficiently, shutting down their respiratory systems, infecting their kidneys before causing a grotesque rash. Since that new strain hadn't presented immediately with a rash, the healers hadn't known how to treat it until it was too late.

Scorpius thought inexplicably of his father leaning over Narcissa's casket. Astoria had held Scorpius' hand tight and kept him back, giving Draco a private moment to say goodbye to his mother.

' _At least it spared her lovely face_ ,' Draco had said, looking down at his mother tenderly. It was the first time Scorpius had seen his father cry.

"Lexi is being kept unconscious," Dania said. "She was in a lot of pain, so we're keeping her comfortable while we treat her. She's starting to respond to the potions. We gave her a pain potion and as soon as I'm sure Albus can handle it I'll administer -"

"No," Scorpius said quickly. "As much as I hate it, don't give Albus anything for the pain. Not until he can decide for himself."

"Scorpius, I don't think you understand," Dania said. "The amount of pain he's in will slow his healing."

Scorpius remembered Albus at eighteen, struggling to function and irritable when he'd struggled with pain potions. The addiction had been brief but intense, followed by a rough detoxing and Albus refusing to touch anything beyond muggle Tylenol for years. It was a secret they'd kept even then, and Scorpius had no intention of discussing it now without Albus' consent.

"The minimum," Scorpius decided. "There are… reasons."

Dania gave him a wary look, but she must have known that Scorpius wouldn't be moved. He could see the concern on her face — the worry and fear — and the gravity of the situation settled on Scorpius all at once. Scorpius stumbled back, grappling for the row of chairs that lined the Floo connections, but Dania reached out and grabbed a fistful of Scorpius' shirt, pulling him upright roughly. She held him at arm's length – a presumably safe distance.

"Keep it together," Dania said through gritted teeth. "You're no help to Albus or Lexi if you have a breakdown."

"I'm no help to them out here either," Scorpius retorted. "Let me see them."

"I can't do that," she said. "You know I can't. You need to be quarantined for at least twelve hours."

"Twelve hours?" Scorpius hissed. "You want me to stay away from my ill daughter whom I haven't seen and my ill husband for _twelve hours_? You must be mad."

"Most strains are passed via skin-to-skin contact," Dania explained. "If you touched him then you could pass a changed strain back to him and then he _will_ die, Scorpius. That's a certainty."

"Is it a possibility that he'll die now?" Scorpius asked, alarmed. "He saw all the children. All of them –"

"Come with me, Scorpius," Dania said, her eyes pleading. It was then that he realized several members of the hospital staff and several others had formed a wary gallery of spectators. They were standing at a distance, watching him with fear in their eyes. He could see several healers he recognized as close colleagues of Dania's, and two of them were slowly reaching towards their pockets. Scorpius realized they were reaching for their wands. He made eye contact with one of them – an even-keeled man whose name he knew to be Travis – and his hand froze an inch from the exposed handle of his wand.

" _Please_. For everyone's safety."

Scorpius looked back to Dania, aware of the silence that now surrounded him.

"Okay," he consented, going against every instinct he possessed. The last thing he wanted to do was be quarantined away from Lexi and Albus. It was difficult to internalize that Lexi was ill since he hadn't seen her – difficult to think of her being somewhere in this vast hospital, unconscious and alone.

 _At least she won't remember being alone_ , Scorpius thought. It was of little comfort as he allowed Dania to lead him away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What was supposed to be quick fic to fulfill a promise turned into a surprise behemoth of over 100 pages. 
> 
> Thanks to [Slytherin629](https://slytherin629.tumblr.com) for spending hours and hours editing this and offering invaluable insight. 
> 
> Questions, comments and kudos are always appreciated.  
>    
> [Tumblr.](https://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com)


	2. Quarantine

Quarantine, Scorpius learned, was a miserable prospect. He was alone in a clean room with a stiff, white bed, a single uncomfortable chair, and a shimmering veil of magic between himself and a space for visitors near the door.

He'd been alone for over an hour when Dania returned. It had given himself time to calm down and think while she'd gone off to check on Albus and Lexi. She looked weary as she entered and closed the door behind herself. She pulled a chair on her side of the veil over and sat down, and Scorpius did the same, mirroring her.

"What's happening?" Scorpius asked, far calmer than when she'd left him there, pacing like a caged lion.

"I had to swap clothes and have everything sanitized," Dania explained. "That took a few minutes, so I only had a moment to check on Lexi before moving on to Albus. She's stable, sedated and in an isolated unit."

"What does ‘stable’ mean?" Scorpius asked. It was easier to ask the right questions now that he was somewhat relaxed.

"She has patches like Albus – the only really bad one is on her leg, and I think that's because she scratched at it before she came in – but she hasn't had any new ones develop since she came here. We administered a respiratory potion and a basic healing potion and she's breathing easier. Children generally recover from dragon pox much faster than adults."

"And Albus?"

Dania sighed and took a moment to gather herself. The silence made the hair on Scorpius' arms stand up.

"It's not as easy with Albus. Traditional dragon pox begins with the rash and then escalates if untreated, but the strains we've seen in the last few decades, while not widespread, have been especially brutal," Dania said. "Before, dragon pox presented with a rash, followed by nausea and the especially unpleasant symptom of sneezing sparks."

"I've heard," Scorpius said. "I thought it was funny when I saw someone recovering from it in Diagon Alley once, but that wasn't what happened to my grandparents."

Scorpius cringed thinking of it. His grandparents didn't have the skin symptoms until the disease had nearly claimed them. Instead, they had struggled to breathe and became dehydrated with a severe fever. Scorpius hadn't seen them near the end, and that was all Draco had told him.

"Draco told me about it," Dania said. "When dragon pox evolved and passed between breeds of dragons, the symptoms changed and so did the order they'd show up. A person can carry it for days before becoming ill – that's how Albus must have passed it on to Lexi."

"He would have never gone near them if he was sick," Scorpius said quickly, desperate to defend his husband. "Ever. He'd never risk the children's health–"

Dania held up her hand to stem his defense, and her calm and even demeanor was more alarming than if she'd been as frantic as he was. This was how she explained hard truths to Orion, and how she spoke to families of those who were grievously ill. He found that he couldn't look at her, and instead looked to his brown Oxford shoes and saw they were covered in gray soot and Floo powder.

"I know," Dania assured him. "I know he wouldn't. But they were both ill long before they knew they were and now we're not just trying to cure them – we're trying to undo a considerable amount of damage, especially with Albus. This strain doesn't cause harmless sparks. It heats up the lungs and singes them like the person is caught in a fire and breathes it in. Damn good thing muggles can't catch it, because they'd never be able to survive it."

"Yes, that's terribly fortunate," Scorpius said darkly. "Will my husband and daughter be okay?"

"We're doing everything we can," Dania said.

"That's not an answer," Scorpius said, looking up at her. He studied her face and saw that she was profoundly uncomfortable, though she tried to hide it. Her bedside manner was slipping. He was surprised it had lasted this long, especially since she'd seen her granddaughter sedated and sick.

"The progression has halted with Lexi," Dania said. "When I got to Albus they'd revived him. The healer needed to know how long he'd been ill. The first thing he asked was where Lexi was."

"You told him she was alright?"

"I did," Dania said. "I didn't want to panic him. He was disoriented and frightened. He told me he'd sent Will, Samuel and Charlie to his parents' because he wasn't feeling well. He was more worried about the children and you than anything else."

Scorpius shook his head to clear it. In his fear and disorientation, he'd forgotten to ask where his other children were.

"If I'd known, I would have gone to check on him," Dania said. "He said it had been a day or so – he wasn't sure."

"How bad is he?" Scorpius asked. "The truth, Dania."

"He's in a lot of pain," Dania admitted. "There were more patches of the pox on his chest, back and legs, and his lungs are in far worse shape than Lexi's. I imagine he must have been tired from travelling when he contracted it and his immune system wasn't up to the task."

"Up to the task," Scorpius repeated faintly. He stood, unable to remain still any longer, and began to pace back and forth on shaky legs. "I should have never gone to Canada."

"You can't blame yourself," Dania said. "If you hadn't been gone, you'd both be in the hospital with the pox."

"Maybe not," Scorpius said.

"Please," Dania said flatly. "You two have never been able to keep your hands to yourselves."

Under other circumstances, Scorpius would have smiled at the notion. Now he only looked at his step-mother, defeated.

"Can you send for Harry and Ginny?"

"I already have," she assured him kindly. "I've sent for Draco to stay with Lexi. He'll get word to Hogwarts for the others. I'm certain Nurse Finnigan-Thomas has checked Avery and Adam and is ensuring they don't have it to, but if they did it would have shown by now. There’s a protocol in case something like this happens, so they will have been kept in the hospital wing for a while until she was absolutely certain that they weren’t carrying it. It’s an international procedure used in all the schools."

That, at least, but Scorpius' mind at ease – that if he couldn't be beside Albus and Lexi, at least his father and Albus' parents would be there.

"How much longer am I stuck in here?" Scorpius asked.

"Another eleven hours," Dania said. "Until we're certain you're clean. There's a test for the pox that's effective after that time and if you respond negatively to it, I'll let you out immediately and take you to them, but they're behind a barrier just like this one until we can ensure they're not contagious."

She gestured to the shimmering barrier between them.

"They won't be alone, right?" Scorpius all but begged. "If they wake up, they won't be alone? Lexi will panic and Albus… he'll wonder if we're okay."

"Someone will stay with both of them at all times. You have my word."

"Then go," Scorpius said, though he was terrified of being left alone in the cold, soulless room. "You're not helping either of them here. But do me a favor and send for Ainsley. Have her get Avery and Adam. They'll be worried sick."

"I'll have her fetch them straight away," Dania said, standing and smoothing out her robes. "And Orion. He won't be able to focus on classes not knowing what's going on."

"He is inquisitive, isn't he?" Scorpius said, forcing a smile that Dania seemed to appreciate. "Don't worry – he obviously gets it from Dad."

Scorpius and Dania regarded each other, reaching the kind of unspoken understanding they often had. He expected it was difficult for her to refrain from comforting someone who looked so much like her husband and son.

"I'll be back to check on you."

"Don't," Scorpius said. "Not because I don't want to see you, but Albus and Lexi need you more. There's nothing you can do for me. Send someone to get me when the eleven hours are up – if I haven't gone mad with worry before then. And don't let Will, Charlie and Samuel see their father and sister like that. If they have to be here then keep them in the waiting room. Get… get James. He should be at work."

"What if he can't come?"

Scorpius gave her a mocking look. "He works in my department and I'm quite certain I can remember to sign off on his absence."

Dania hesitated, but nodded. She opened her mouth, and Scorpius expected her to tell him that everything would be fine soon enough, but Dania had never lied to him and he suspected she didn't plan to start now.

Scorpius unbuttoned his waistcoat as she swept from the room. He tossed it over the back of the chair and settled in for a long eleven hours.

* * *

Sometimes Harry wondered how much genetics really played into a person's nature. It wasn't something he'd questioned often – all of his children had hallmark Weasley traits and had enough of him in their personalities that they were unmistakable. The same went for Rose and Hugo. But when Albus and Scorpius had started adopting their children, he'd taken a closer look and could never decide if they'd gotten exceptionally lucky with six children who fit together so seamlessly, or if they were such good parents that their kids adapted easily.

But when he heard Avery's protesting voice down the hall and watched through the door window as she broke from James' grasp and pushed her way into her unconscious papa's hospital room with a hardened, determined look on her face, he really wondered if she wasn't a secret Weasley.

"Avery!" James scolded her. Harry spotted Adam behind her, his arm wrapped around Charlie's waist. She seemed to be struggling as well.

Harry watched Avery's eyes widen as she took in Albus' unconscious form. Behind her, James wrenched the door closed (Harry supposed he figured the damage was done with Avery), leaving them alone.

"Hello, Avery," Harry said calmly. It took a moment for her eyes to leave Albus' pale face and look to her grandfather, and when her siblings' voices died down outside, Albus' labored breathing was painfully obvious.

Harry had been standing vigil at his son's side for two hours now, his hands folded behind his back. He stood very still, watching over Albus every second – sometimes with Ginny at his side, and sometimes alone. At the moment, she was down in the children's ward checking on Lexi, though they both knew it was pointless. She'd be unconscious for another day at least. Harry suspected Ginny needed to move and feel like she was doing something, and he would never get in the way of what she needed.

"Grandpa?" Avery said, as if seeing him for the first time. Harry held out his arm to her and she rushed to him, throwing her arms around his waist and resting her cheek against his shoulder, staring at her father.

"What happened?" Avery asked.  "Is he going to be okay?"

"He caught a bad form of dragon pox," Harry explained. "Lexi caught it too, but she's doing better."

"Can I see her?"

"You weren't supposed to see Albus," Harry reminded her. "Surely James told you that."

"Uncle James says a lot of things," Avery said, stepping back to look at him. "I rarely listen to him."

Harry couldn't help smiling at her. Avery's occasional tenacity was obnoxious to some in their family, but it made Harry love her even more.

"Lexi is unconscious too," Harry said. "Your grandma and Draco are down there with her now."

Avery swallowed hard and looked from Albus to Harry.

"You're awfully calm," Avery said.

"Panicking won't help them," Harry said, though he was certain it wouldn't make her feel any better. "We tried panicking the last time we spent a considerable amount of time here. The method didn't really work."

Avery frowned at him.

"When was that?"

"When you were born. I think it was a floor above where we are now, come to think of it."

Harry knew she'd heard the story – that her birth mother had decided long before she was born that she couldn't care for Avery and the best option was for her to be put up for adoption. Albus and Scorpius had been elated that they were able to be outside the room when their first child was born, but instead of being handed a healthy infant they'd chased healers as they took her to the infant care wing. Avery had been born with a rare heart problem, and Harry had watched in awe as Albus and Scorpius stayed by her side around the clock, supporting one another through their panic and fear.

He'd also watched in awe as they never complained about late-night feedings or inconvenient diaper changes.

"They panicked?"

"We all did," Harry confessed.

"We don't talk about it much," Avery said. "It's not like I have anything to add since I don't remember it. But I thought… well, I thought it must have taken them time to like me, since I was someone else's baby, really. Kind of like it took a little while for things to settle with Charlie."

"No," Harry said firmly. "Absolutely not. I was there the first time your fathers held you.  It was no different than the first time I held James or Albus or Lily – though I think Albus and Scorpius were less afraid of becoming parents than I was."

Harry looked back at his son, remembering the first time he'd held Albus. He'd been so small then – a pink, crying baby with a mess of black hair and a loud wail that bounced around the room. He'd been proud of himself then, when only he had been able to calm Albus in those first few days.

He wasn't small anymore, and he was far more green than any other color now, but Harry still wished comforting him was as simple as bouncing a baby around a room, singing nonsense words about Quidditch as a lullaby.

"He can't die," Avery muttered, breaking Harry's musings. "When we saw him a few days ago, Adam, Lex and I were giving him a hard time. I didn’t like how we weren’t all together much over the summer…”

"Avery –"

"I think… I think we really upset him and we didn't mean to," Avery stammered. Harry had no idea what to say and wrapped his arms back around his granddaughter and let her lean into him. "I need him."

She held her hand out to test the barrier. It was harmless but impenetrable when she touched it, and she flattened her palm against it, letting the shimmering energy lick at her fingers. Harry could see the desperation in her eyes, and he lay his hand on her shoulder, wishing he could do more to console her.

"I do too," Harry admitted. "And don't worry. He knows how much you love him."

Avery hid her face in Harry's chest and fell silent.

* * *

"You and Harry are more alike than you think," Ginny told Draco, but it was clear that she didn't mean it as a compliment at the moment. As she paced, she looked down at him with narrowed eyes. Draco was sitting calmly at Lexi's side, next to the safety barrier, watching and waiting in case she woke up.

"How so?" Draco asked, observing her. Her shoulders were taut and her hands were clasped behind her back, and Draco wondered if it was to keep them from shaking. Ginny was one of the strongest people he knew — it was no wonder she and Dania got along so well — and seeing her looking as frazzled as Draco felt was the most visible sign that the situation was dire. He hoped she’d relax before Lexi woke, because Draco was certain seeing her Grandma Ginny so undone with worry would give her nightmares.

"Both so calm," Ginny said. It was moments like these when she was fiery and restless that Draco understood why she and Harry worked so well together. He couldn’t help smiling at her. "Just waiting patiently while I'm going mad with worry."

"Making ourselves sick with worry won't help Lexi or Albus," Draco said. He was good at giving that advice but terrible at following it. He'd already taken two stomach calming draughts when no one was looking. "The healers are doing –"

"Everything they can," Ginny completed, rolling her eyes. "Yes, I know. It's just frustrating that there's nothing we can do."

"Believe me, I know," Draco agreed. He looked at Lexi – beautiful, small, brilliant Lexi – lying prone, vulnerable and entirely inaccessible. He'd give up the entire Malfoy fortune if it would make her and Albus well again, but this was something Dania had assured him money couldn't solve, and Draco was left powerless. He wasn't sure which was worse – seeing Lexi and Albus suffer like this and listening to their raspy breathing, or the lost and frightened look he'd seen on Scorpius' face when he'd gone to the quarantine room.

"I should go check on Albus," Ginny said. Draco looked up. She too was staring at Lexi with the deep longing of a parent separated from their child. Draco recognized it instantly.

"Feels like when they had the time-turner, doesn't it?" Draco asked. "That helpless feeling."

"Far too much for my liking," Ginny admitted. "And this time there's nothing to chase. We're just… waiting."

Draco got to his feet and tugged his jumper back into place. The hospital felt colder than the late autumn air outside, and yet somehow he still felt overheated and claustrophobic.

"They're both tough," Draco reminded her. "Lexi always bounces back and Albus is a fighter."

"Albus fights with anything and everything," Ginny said.

"Well, he is a Potter."

To Draco's surprise, Ginny smiled at him. She brushed her gray and red hair back from her face and looked back at Lexi. Her smile faded when Lexi took a particularly ragged breath and shifted very slightly in discomfort. He cringed alongside Ginny, once again sharing the experience of being a grandparent with someone he'd never expected to be family.

 

“Don’t worry,” Draco said, noting her torn expression. He knew how anxious he was to check on Albus himself and couldn’t imagine Ginny’s concern. “I won’t leave her. I promise.”

 

Ginny gave him a look of relief and gratitude. For a moment, Draco was worried she might hug him, and that if she did, he would succumb to his anxieties and tear up.

"They need to get better soon," Ginny said. "Or they're going to have to admit me to the hospital too for a nervous breakdown."

Draco wasn't sure he would be far behind her.

* * *

Scorpius tapped the toe of his shoe impatiently on the floor as Dania talked to him, trying to fill the five minutes needed for the potion to respond to a sample of Scorpius' blood. The small cup sat still on the chair, clear save for the drop of red suspended in the middle. Scorpius stared at it, as though his will would make it respond faster.

"We've tested both Lexi and Albus," Dania said. "The Head of Magical Bugs and Diseases tended to them himself. He doesn't think it's highly contagious so we've taken the barriers down – dragon pox normally doesn't stay contagious very long, but to be on the safe side we're asking everyone to wear gloves and avoid direct contact."

"I just want to get out of here," Scorpius said, bending down to survey the potion, though he knew it hadn't changed. He'd alternated pacing, staring at the ceiling, staring at the wall, and blankly thumbing through the magazine his father had brought him for eleven hours, and it felt like eleven days. It was too much idle time spent imagining all manner of horrible outcomes, and now Scorpius knew his heart wouldn't calm down until he'd seen Lexi and Albus for himself.

Behind Dania, the door creaked open and Draco entered. He looked between his wife and son, concerned.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

Dania consulted her watch.

"We'll know in about a minute," she said. Scorpius pulled his waistcoat on, preparing to leave immediately. He was working on the buttons when Draco spoke.

"Lexi woke up," he said.

Scorpius' fingers stilled. It was clear from Draco's tone that this was not truly a positive development.

"How is she?" Scorpius asked, knowing he wasn't going to like the answer.

"She won't take another sleeping draught until she sees you or Albus," Draco said. "I wasn't sure if you wanted her to know Albus was ill or not."

"I should be the one to tell her," Scorpius said, finishing his buttons. He straightened his collar and brushed his hair back with his fingers.

"We should hurry," Draco said, his calm tone forced. "The pain potion isn't enough. She's still hurting quite a bit and she fought a nurse. Ginny had to kick the poor boy out – he wasn't prepared for Lexi to wake up with that much adrenaline."

Dania looked from her watch back to the clear potion sitting on the chair.

"Bring that up to the barrier," she requested, and Scorpius carefully picked up the potion and brought it to her. He held it up to her eye level, and Dania inspected it, squinting at the bead of red blood suspended in the center.

"You're not infected," Dania said definitively, and with a wave of her wand the shimmering barrier dissipated. Scorpius stepped over onto their side of the room, eager to leave, and tossed the potion into the bin near the door.

"Take me to Lexi first," he requested, wrenching open the door and heading into the hallway.

Dania lead him down the labyrinth of corridors deep into the adult Magical Bugs and Diseases ward. Scorpius vaguely knew the layout of the hospital and knew they were winding their way towards the children’s unit, but wasn’t entirely certain where they were or how far they had to go. He hoped it was close, since he felt very tired already. They passed the dedicated units for Scrofungulus and Vanishing Sickness, as well as some of the basic exam rooms before they rounded a corner and Scorpius was face to face with all five of his healthy children, Orion, Ainsley, and James.

"Dad!" yelled Will, and he leaped up from his seat. Charlie, who'd had her face buried in Avery's shoulder looked around, disoriented and groggy.

Scorpius let himself be nearly tackled by Will and Samuel. They attached themselves to both his arms as he walked over to Avery, Adam and Charlie.

"Is Papa going to be okay?" Samuel asked.

"Is Lexi alright?" Will demanded, tugging on his hand.

"You're not sick too, are you?" Samuel asked, backing away.

"I'm not sick," Scorpius assured them. As much as he wanted to stay and assure them that everything was going to be fine, he knew he needed to get to Lexi first. He lay a hand atop Adam's head, ready to assure them all that everything was going to be fine, when he caught the sight of Albus through the window. Clearly, they'd been gathered around this room for a reason. The words died in his throat.

Harry was standing over Albus' bed, his arms crossed and back straight. He was a sentinel, guarding his child the same way Scorpius longed to be guarding them both. Albus was very still, his breaths appearing short and shallow and his skin pale and sickly looking, even at a distance. The purple and green rash seemed to have spread a few inches up his neck, and was threatening to cross over his jawline onto his face. Scorpius was all at once certain that he wouldn't care at all if Albus had horrendous scars or wound up disfigured as long as he wasn't in pain and came home safely.

"Scorpius," implored Dania.

He tore his eyes from the window and saw her a few paces away, ready to lead him to Lexi.

"Right," he said. He gently peeled Samuel and Will from his sides and guided them to sit down next to Adam, who looked shaky at best. Albus and Lexi were the best at handling Adam's anxiety – Scorpius always gave every effort but wasn't quite as talented as they were – and here he was in a terribly stressful environment without both of them.

"I need to go see Lexi immediately," Scorpius explained to them, crouching down and scanning their faces. Avery wrapped her arm tighter around Charlie who whimpered at her side, but gave no protest. "I'm going to come back here right after, and then we're all going to go upstairs, get something to eat, and I'm going to explain everything."

"Is Lexi going to be okay?" Avery asked. There was a peculiar kind of pain in her eyes – something different from the others – but Scorpius couldn't ask her why now.

"She's going to be fine," Scorpius assured her. "Your papa is going to be fine too."

"Don't tell us they're going to be okay if they aren't," Adam said. "We can handle it."

Scorpius looked at him, at a loss for words. Adam's expression was resolute and immovable, as were the rest of them. Scorpius looked at them for a long moment – linked hands, shoulders pressed against one another's sides, comforting arms around shoulders – and knew that they _could_ handle it. They could handle anything.

"It's not the best," Scorpius admitted. "But they're in good hands and things are starting to look up. Especially for Lexi. I'm going to go see her right now and tell her you're all here, and then I'm going to check on your father. I'll meet you all upstairs – go find us a quiet corner, okay?"

Together, they nodded in agreement. Somewhat relieved, Scorpius got to his feet and hastily exchanged hugs with each of his children.

Ainsley and James looked at him expectantly, and Scorpius hastily greeted his sister by grasping her hand as he walked by.

"Take them upstairs," he requested. "Please."

"Of course."

Orion caught his eye as he passed, and Scorpius nodded back to his kids.

"Thank you for coming with them."

Orion looked disappointed and lost but nodded and went with Ainsley as Scorpius followed Dania and Draco to the children's section of the ward.

It was fortunate they had space to give Lexi her own room, because when Scorpius arrived she was gasping and crying, clearly distressed. Dania's request that everyone wear gloves was entirely ignored when he saw her in Ginny's arms. Clearly, Ginny didn't much care for hospital protocol.

"We need to be careful –" Dania began, but was cut off by Ginny's withering look.

"It's not skin-to-skin," Ginny said with certainty as Scorpius wedged himself onto an empty patch of the bed at Lexi's side. She moved away from Ginny and fell against him, her back to his chest, and though she was very clearly ill and in pain, Scorpius felt a wash of relief at having his daughter safely in his arms.

"How do you know that?" Dania asked.

Lexi's voice was raspy and gave out as she spoke. It took her twice as long as normal to speak each word, as she had to take a breath between them.

"I shared Papa’s Butterbeer," she explained.

Dania pressed her palm to her forehead.

"Did you share drinks or food with anyone else after that?"

Lexi shook her head, her curly hair falling against Scorpius' chest. It was normally wild but under control, and now, without proper care, it had taken on a life of its own. Scorpius made a mental note to see if Avery had a spare hair tie.

Ginny met Scorpius' eye.

"I didn't tell her about Albus," Ginny said. "She figured it out once she was fully awake."

"Of course she did," Scorpius said, though he was upset that she'd likely frightened herself into this state. "Our little Slytherin is very clever."

Lexi stifled a cough into her blanket, and Ginny rubbed her back, making the same soothing sounds Albus did when he comforted the children. It made Scorpius ache for his husband, so he settled for wrapping his arms tighter around his daughter, letting her slide into his lap, and holding her as she cried into his chest.

"Your Papa is going to be okay," Scorpius told her, trying not to think of Adam's request for complete transparency. He wasn’t certain that Albus was going to be okay, but he couldn’t risk causing Lexi stress when she was so very ill, and he knew Albus would make the same choice. "He's down the hall, asleep like you were. He's being treated and they're doing everything they can to make him feel better."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Scorpius assured her.

"We're doing everything we can," Dania promised. Scorpius spotted a bottle of sleeping draught in her hand.

"It burns," Lexi said. Scorpius cringed and cradled her close, not caring at all that she was nearly thirteen and, under other circumstances, would have told him she was too old to be coddled by her dad. He held his hand out for the sleeping draught, and Dania handed it to him.

"I know," Scorpius said, uncorking the bottle with his teeth. "Drink this. It will help you rest and get better faster."

Lexi gave no protest, and let Scorpius hold the potion up to her lips. She drank it in one gulp and wrapped her arms around Scorpius' neck. Her body went heavy and limp in his arms quickly as the potion did its work, and Scorpius relaxed back against the pillows with her as Dania came over, pulling on her gloves and inspecting the purple and green patch on Lexi's leg. She had been right – the wound looked far worse than the one on Albus' neck. Lexi must have scratched at it before she realized what it was.

Dania applied a topical healing potion to the damaged skin and bandaged it for good measure.

"Are you that careful with all your patients?" Scorpius asked. Dania gave him a sad smile and shook her head.

"No. Only the ones that call me Grandmother."

Scorpius looked down at Lexi's face and brushed her hair back. Of all his children, Lexi was the one who looked most like she had the day he'd met her. She still had a childlike quality to her face – one he hoped she'd keep as she got older.

"You should check on Albus," Draco said gently. "I'll stay here with Lexi."

"I can stay," Ginny offered.

"You need a break," Draco said kindly. "You know you do."

Scorpius looked up at them. Sharing grandchildren had forced the Malfoys and Potters to spend a great deal of time together, and in that time they'd become family to one another. Ginny relented and stood from Lexi's bed and lay a hand on Draco's shoulder as she passed him.

"Thanks."

Draco nodded, and Ginny turned back to Scorpius at the door.

"Are you coming?"

"In a minute," Scorpius said. She nodded in understanding and slipped from the room, surely to go hold her own child's hand.

Draco and Dania waited patiently while Scorpius held Lexi for a moment longer, trying to find his way back to the moment and settle himself into a state where he could go see Albus and then talk to his children without having a breakdown of epic proportions. He felt her pulse and breathing under his hands and tried to internalize that she was alive and safe and would remain so even if she was out of his sight, and when he gathered himself enough to leave the room, he assured himself he'd be returning as soon as possible, hopefully with a hair tie.

* * *

Visiting Albus was far worse. Though Lexi being aware of the pain she was in was horrible to watch, it hadn't dawned on Scorpius that they'd given Albus a sleeping draught until he was standing at Harry's side, watching Albus' eyes twitch beneath his eyelids. The effect, combined with the rough sound of his breathing, was devastating.

"They gave my husband, who has some terrible nightmares, a sleeping draught while he's in pain," Scorpius said, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. "He's never going to take a sleeping draught again after this."

"Probably not," Harry said. "I guess dreamless sleep potions aren't an option when you're this ill."

"He hates them anyway," Scorpius said, though Harry surely knew this. "They make him feel heavy and drowsy for hours after he wakes. I don't think he'd like it if he was given them for a long period of time."

Scorpius took his glasses off and rubbed his face. It had been a terribly long day – first traveling back from Canada, then finding out Albus and Lexi were ill, followed by twelve hours in solitary confinement. He'd been up for well over twenty-four hours now, and was beginning to feel every bit of it.

"You look exhausted," Harry said. He took Scorpius' glasses from him as Scorpius sat on the edge of Albus' bed, careful not to jostle him too much. Harry drew a clean cloth from his pocket and cleaned Scorpius' glasses carefully before handing them back with an understanding smile.

"I am exhausted," Scorpius admitted.

"Ginny and I can take shifts staying with him," Harry offered. "You should take the kids home and get some rest."

Scorpius shook his head, biting down a yawn. "No, I can't leave them. I wouldn't rest if I did. I'm going to go upstairs, talk with the kids, and then maybe you and Ginny can take them home?"

"Back to your house?"

"That might be best," Scorpius said. "Especially for Avery and Adam."

"Of course," Harry said. "But you have to promise to let us know the minute anything happens."

"I promise a great dragon will come and wake you if Albus or Lexi even sneeze," Scorpius promised. Harry chuckled, but sobered quickly when Albus' breathing shuddered once again.

"You should know that Avery fought her way in here when James and Ainsley showed up," Harry told him.

Scorpius shook his head. That explained the pained look she'd given him earlier.

"What happened?"

"She took it rather well," Harry said. "Better than Ginny or I did. But she said something strange. I don’t think she really understands how much you and Albus cared for her before she was born or that you didn’t leave her while the healers mended her heart. I'm not sure she believed me."

"Albus and I never made a big deal about their adoptions," Scorpius said. "We never wanted them to feel like they were any less our kids, and Ainsley said that was the best way to do it."

"Still," Harry said. "Maybe just remind her a bit. I don't think hearing it from me was good enough."

"I'll talk to her," Scorpius said, mentally adding one more thing to his to-do list.  "She doesn't need to be upset about anything other than this."

He gestured to Albus' prone form, and Albus took in a great, shuddering breath as if he were responding. For a second, Scorpius thought he was going to wake up – a prospect that both relieved and terrified him – but Albus' chest settled back into shallow, labored breaths a moment later, and Harry shook his head.

"Even when he's out cold he manages to be dramatic."

Scorpius couldn't help smiling.

* * *

The children's faces were nearly as pale as Albus and Lexi's by the time Scorpius had finished explaining. Adam was nervously tugging at his tie and jumper – he was still wearing his Hogwarts uniform, as was Avery, who had a faraway look in her eyes. Will was sniffling next to Samuel, who was channeling his trepidation into tearing one of the cafeteria napkins into the smallest pieces possible. Their food sat only half-eaten – either because they couldn't stomach it after fully understanding how dire their father and sister's situation was, or because Albus' cooking was so far superior that it seemed pointless to eat it.

"So… Papa and Lexi might not be okay?" Charlie asked. Hearing the question no one wanted to ask from the youngest child was exceedingly difficult, and Scorpius struggled to meet her eyes.

"Strains of dragon pox have been cured through the ages," Scorpius explained. "This case is just particularly aggressive. Lexi, it seems, is starting to mend already."

"What he's trying not to say," Adam chimed in, "is that Papa might die."

Avery cringed and looked away from Adam, but Charlie turned to face him.

"I know," she said. She looked at Scorpius, and tilted her head. He could already see the tears in her eyes. "If Papa dies, does that mean I can't stay with you?" she asked, shaky. Scorpius' chest and throat tightened so much he could barely breathe. "Does something change if there aren't two parents?"

"That's not how it works," Adam assured her.

"You'll always be a Malfoy-Potter," Scorpius assured her. "No one is taking any of you from me."

For the first time, Scorpius considered the prospect of raising their children alone. It was something he never thought about – he'd _never_ been without Albus. He didn't want to sit alone at their Hogwarts graduation ceremonies. He didn't want to attend his children's weddings without Albus at his side. He didn't want to face the highs and lows of the rest of his life alone, and all at once he understood Albus' desperation, depression, and exhaustion when he'd been ill just before they'd been married. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Scorpius made a silent promise to never call Albus dramatic again when he talked about the Greengrass curse.

"You lot don't need to stay here. It's –" Scorpius looked down at his watch and sighed. "It's well after midnight. Harry is going to take you home and you can come up here tomorrow to visit if Lexi and your papa are awake."

Samuel, Will, Charlie, and Adam exchanged long looks, having a silent conversation. After a moment, Adam nodded to them, and then looked to Scorpius.

"Okay," he said, as if Scorpius had given them a choice. He supposed they knew as well as he did that he wouldn't have fought them if they'd insisted upon staying. In truth, Scorpius wasn't sure what he was going to do here all night, but he knew he couldn't leave.

"I'm staying," Avery announced.

"Avery, it's okay to go home and get some rest."

"I'm not leaving," she said. "You can stay with Papa. I'll stay with Lexi."

Scorpius remembered what Harry had told him earlier and relented quickly. He'd have to see if he could have a couple cots brought into the hospital rooms. He'd hated the idea of leaving either of them alone overnight, and Avery had always taken her job as big sister quite seriously. He was certain Dania could arrange for them to stay.

Scorpius nodded and looked to the others before they could get any ideas.

"The rest of you are going home."

Charlie groaned, but Will seemed grateful. He appeared to be fighting to stay awake, and Scorpius could tell that, at some point during the day, he had been crying even though he was trying to hide it.

They left the cafeteria and their half-neglected meals (though Scorpius saw Samuel snatch the last remaining bite of Adam's biscuit). He walked downstairs with them at a slow pace, both out of their collective exhaustion and reluctance to part. When they reached Albus' room again, Scorpius hugged and kissed them goodbye one by one and watched as Harry and Ginny ushered them away toward the stairs to the lobby. He was left in the corridor with only Avery, Orion and Dania.

"Avery wants to stay with Lexi tonight," Scorpius told Dania. "Is there any way to make that work?"

She nodded, her eyelids heavy and exhausted.

"Yes. I can arrange a cot for both rooms. I'm not expecting either of them to spend a single night here alone anyway."

Scorpius had been grateful to have a healer in the family before, but never more than in that moment. When this was over, he'd have to find a way to do something for her to show his gratitude.

Orion shuffled his feet, looking uncomfortable. While his kids were known to discard parts of their uniforms or spend entire days barefoot, Orion was rarely ever less than perfectly dressed. Now, however, his blue striped tie dangled from the pocket of his trousers and his jumper was tied low around his waist. His arms were crossed and he looked down at the floor.

"Orion? I thought you'd want to go back to my house with Harry and Ginny."

"No, I think I'll go home," Orion muttered, but it was clear he wasn't happy about it.

"I hate to leave you, Scorpius," Dania said. "But I've been here for nearly twenty-four hours and have to be back tomorrow at noon. I'm going to go and get Draco from Lexi's room. We'll be back here first thing in the morning. I promise they're in good hands with the night staff."

"Thank you, Dania," was all Scorpius could say. He could only hope she knew how grateful he was.

* * *

Though his exhausted body protested, Scorpius left Albus only to check on Lexi and Avery once more before attempting to get some rest. Ginny had stayed behind when Harry left with the other children, giving Scorpius enough time to see Lexi and check on Avery, whose stubbornness Ginny seemed to admire. Ginny had offered to stay with Lexi as well, but Avery refused, and Scorpius wasn't of the mind that she wouldn't be an appropriate companion for her ailing sister.

He gave a soft knock to the hospital room door before opening it a crack and peering in.

Lexi was still sedated. Scorpius wasn't sure if he was projecting his wishes onto her, but he could have sworn she had more color in her cheeks and that her breathing seemed easier.

Avery, on the other hand, looked quite disturbed. She sat curled up on a cot across the small room from Lexi, her back to the wall and her knees drawn to her chest.

"Hi, Dad," she muttered, her words muffled by the hospital pajamas Dania had given her.

"Mind if I come in for a minute?"

Avery shrugged, and with the mood she seemed to be in, Scorpius figured that was the best he was going to get. Scorpius closed the door behind himself and stepped in. It was an awkward situation – one of his daughters ill and sedated and the other brooding in the corner.

"Are you alright?" Scorpius asked, taking a tentative step towards her. Avery gave him a sideways glance, unmoving, before looking back to her sister.

"Fine. Just tired."

Scorpius sighed and moved over to her. He sat down on the edge of the cot at a safe distance, since she seemed to need space. He folded his hands in his lap, hoping Avery would speak first. He didn't want to tell her what Harry had said and risk her distrusting her grandfather, but she showed no signs of speaking and just kept watching her sister.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong or am I going to have to tickle it out of you?"

"Don't you think I'm getting a bit old for that, Dad?"

In response, Scorpius poked her side just below her ribs where he knew she was most ticklish. She squirmed away from him into the corner, but before she could curl back up, he saw a small smile on her lips.

"Clearly not." Scorpius looked at her. Her long dark hair was tied up into a bun at the back of her head, and her eyes were wide and alert. "Talk to me, Avery."

Avery sighed and unwound herself, leaning back into the wall.

"She's my little sister," Avery said. "I can't do anything to help her. And Papa…"

She shook her head.

"She's my daughter and he's my husband, and I can't do anything to help either of them," Scorpius said. Lexi shifted in her sleep, gripping at the blankets, but her face showed no sign of pain.

"Did you talk to Papa after he visited us in Hogsmeade?"

Scorpius thought back on the last few days to the last conversation he'd had with Albus. It was a short phone call the night before Scorpius had left Canada. Though Scorpius' call woke Albus, he'd had sounded fine at the time, but Scorpius knew he would never have noted being sick if he knew it would worry Scorpius unnecessarily. He'd mentioned that he'd visited the kids, had assured Scorpius they were all well. He'd mentioned something about needing to discuss Christmas, but said it could wait until Scorpius returned.

"Briefly," Scorpius told her. "Why? Did something happen?"

Avery swallowed hard and looked down at her knees.

"We gave him a hard time about last summer when you were both working constantly," Avery explained. "I said I'd hated it and that I'd wondered if there was something wrong between the two of you."

The idea of something being wrong between him and Albus was nearly laughable. Sure, they got on each other's nerves every once in awhile, but Scorpius could count on one hand the number of times they'd actually _fought_.

But had there been something off? He considered what could have made the kids think that. Maybe they had let some of their normal things go – mandatory evenings spent together in favor of getting more done, fewer small touches when they were together, less time spent smiling at one another.

"What made you think that?"

"You were both constantly working," Avery said. "I mean… one of you was always home and it was usually Papa, but that was because of the clinic. And I saw more of our grandparents over the summer than ever."

"You all seemed to be having fun," Scorpius said. "I didn't think you'd been unhappy."

"Not unhappy," Avery said. "Just… Lex, Adam and I came home and things felt different."

Scorpius looked at her and the way she'd curled herself up to seem so small. Avery was a bit gangly – he was sure it would pass in time, but now she looked stretched after a sudden growth spurt. If Albus were there, he'd be making her eat to put some weight back on.

"I'm sorry," Scorpius said, turning to face her. When Avery didn't look at him, he lay his hand on her shoulder and waited for her to turn. When she did look at him with sad eyes, he felt something tighten in his chest. "We never meant for things to feel different. We both got swamped with work at the same time and I guess things just got away from us."

"It's okay," Avery said. "Like you've always told us, parents aren't perfect."

"No, they aren't," Scorpius said, but there were still some days he did think his father was pretty close. "But when you were born, Albus and I made a promise to try our best to make you feel happy, safe and loved, and I think we let you down."

"I didn't mean that," Avery said, uncurling. "I just… I don't know. I can't explain it."

"You don't have to," Scorpius said. "Just tell me the next time you don't feel right about something, okay?"

Avery nodded, and Scorpius pulled her to his side gently, letting her rest her head against his shoulder. He thought about how far she'd come since the first time he'd held her not far from where they were now, and considered what Harry had told him earlier.

"You know, this looks a lot like the room you were in right after you were born," Scorpius tested. "The one where the healers fixed your heart before we took you home."

Avery's hand instinctively moved to her chest. She'd been fully healed by the time she was two years old and didn't even have a scar or memories of her weakened heart at birth. She'd been quite confused when Albus and Scorpius had told her about it when she was older.

"Really?"

"Yeah, there were a couple other babies there. Your papa and I stayed there together until we could bring you home. We watched over you day and night."

Avery wound her arms around his middle, and Scorpius rested his chin atop her head before continuing.

"We were so happy when we found out we could be there when you were born. Ainsley arranged it, of course. Your birth mother was very kind about it – she was young and knew she couldn't take care of you and she liked us. We were so excited and nervous, and Ainsley was afraid things wouldn't _click_. And then there was something wrong with your tiny heart, and she was so afraid that if you didn’t make it, we would give up on having a family. We loved you that much.”

 

"They took you pretty quickly to the intensive care area for infants. You were so small and you were struggling, and we stood over you and waited and hoped, and finally, after two days, they let us hold you. You were in this little cream colored blanket with a tiny purple hat with a pink bauble your great-grandmother had knitted for you."

Avery chuckled tiredly, turning her face against his shoulder.

"I knew the second I held you that everything was going to be okay. You were getting stronger by the minute, and you just grabbed ahold of my pinky finger –" Scorpius tapped her nose with it, making her giggle, "and I knew you were always meant to be with us."

"I didn't know if maybe it took a while for you to feel like I was really your daughter… like I was a part of the family," Avery said.

 

Scorpius nearly wished that Headmaster Longbottom hadn’t removed all the modern histories of wizarding family from the library’s main circulation. Neville had witnessed firsthand the effect family legacies could have on students, both when he was a student and later when he began teaching. Scorpius was certain he’d been aware of the bullying Albus had received as a child and had made the decision to separate the more sensitive material and place it in the restricted section to prevent some students being judged by their parents’ and grandparents’ actions.

 

Maybe Scorpius should have allowed the children to peruse his copies of those books — the ones he kept with old newspaper clippings and photos he tried not to think about. Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to protect them from the inaccurate accounts of Daphne Greengrass’ crimes and the Gringras curse. Maybe he shouldn’t have kept them from the _Daily Prophet’s_ incomplete and inaccurate telling of their adventures with Delphi Riddle. Perhaps it would have helped Avery have a sense of place and belonging despite Scorpius’ fears that it would lead her to wish she’d found herself with another family instead.

 

Avery shook her head at Scorpius’ silence before continuing. "Someone at school said that it was really weird at first when their parents adopted a toddler. And after what happened with Charlie… I think I was always too afraid to ask. I thought maybe I didn't want to know."

"I should have talked to you about it sooner," Scorpius said, trying to set aside his internal debate for another day, though it nagged at him. "Albus and I didn't think you and your brothers and sisters would like it if we talked about your adoptions too much. We thought it might make you feel strange. Yes, you were all born to different parents, but that doesn't make you any less our children."

Avery sighed into his side, and across the room, Lexi shifted under her blankets. A part of Scorpius hoped she somehow heard him through her sleep and knew exactly how much she was loved too.

Scorpius kissed the top of Avery's head and held her tighter. He knew he'd have to leave them both and return to Albus, but as he sat there with his arms around his eldest, feeling her smile against his shoulder and listening to Lexi's somewhat-eased breathing, he found himself holding onto the first truly peaceful moment of the day, and wanting to stay just a minute longer.

* * *

After Avery dozed off, Scorpius carefully pulled the spare elastic from around her wrist. He tucked her into the blankets atop the cot, then did the same for Lexi after gently maneuvering her hair into a loose bun at the back of her head. He kissed her cheek and forehead, wishing he felt less of a fever, and then headed back down the long corridor toward Albus' room.

When he entered, he found a healer standing back from his husband's bed, and Ginny sitting on the edge. She gave Scorpius a tired, mournful smile, her eye twitching from fatigue as she stroked the back of Albus' hand absently.

"I came back after the kids settled down. They're playing Exploding Snap for a while since they're stressed and wired. Albus… well, he woke up for a minute while you were gone," Ginny said, regret lacing every word. Scorpius let the door fall closed behind him, looking down at Albus. A damp cloth lay across his forehead, and his skin was pale, making the rash on his neck seem even bolder and nastier. His heart sank. He hadn't been there, holding Albus' hands when he woke. He hadn't been there to assure him everything would be okay.

"The first thing he did was ask for Lexi. He sounded horrible, though and couldn't talk much. I told him she was okay and was on the mend. She is still doing better, right?"

"Yes," Scorpius told her. "She's starting to look better. Dania said she's beginning to respond to treatment but they're keeping her asleep for now because of the pain."

"Good. I told him you were with her. He seemed terribly relieved to hear that," Ginny continued. "I told him all the kids were okay, but he couldn't stay awake, so the healer had to give him the restoration potion and let him go back to sleep."

Ginny nodded to the healer – a kind-looking young man with a patch on his robes that indicated he was a much higher rank at the hospital than simply delivering potions. Scorpius suspected Dania had something to do with it.

"That's good," Scorpius said, though his strangled tone gave away his regret. He was envious of Ginny for being there and he felt cheated, like he'd had to do several times over the years, he reminded himself that Ginny and Harry had loved Albus long before he had.

"I can stay," Ginny said. "If you'd like to go home and take care of the children. You must be exhausted."

"I couldn't sleep if I did," Scorpius said. "No. If you don't mind, could you go take care of the kids? I'm sure I'll be useless by morning, but I can't leave."

"We'll trade places tomorrow?" Ginny offered. "You have to rest, Scorpius. You're no good to them if you get sick too."

"I know," Scorpius assured her. On the bed, Albus' hands and neck twitched and his eyelids fluttered as he began to dream. Scorpius swallowed, hoping he wasn't trapped in a nightmare but knowing he was. He wished Ginny wouldn't notice, as it would worry her unnecessarily.

To his great relief, Ginny stood, smoothing out her robes before leaning over Albus. She kissed his cheek and pressed the cool cloth to his forehead for a moment before stepping back and turning to Scorpius.

"Make sure Charlie is asleep before you leave her in her room," Scorpius said quietly, fidgeting with the sleeves of his shirt. "She'll be stressed and she still has a problem with falling asleep without one of us after a bad day. It's a holdover from when she was with her mum."

Ginny sneered at the mention of Amara Nott, and Scorpius had to admit that he still shared that sentiment. Neither he nor Albus had forgiven Charlie's birth mother for the ill-treatment and neglect their daughter had received before coming to them.

"I'll make sure," Ginny said.

"And Adam – Adam will need to make a list of things he'll need to do tomorrow if he's going to sleep well."

"Scorpius –"

"And if you can, try to make sure you wake Will up first and spend some time with him in the morning? He's not a morning person and it will be difficult. And Samuel will need some cocoa before bed. It comforts him. Albus always –"

"Scorpius, _I know_."

Ginny placed her hands on Scorpius' shoulders and he fell silent, embarrassed that he'd tried to lecture her on her own grandchildren.

"Samuel needs cocoa before bed to calm down, and in the morning give him tea, but with a lot of milk because he can't stomach it at full strength. And I'll bring Avery a fresh change of clothes. Her favorite Harpies t-shirt, you think?"

Scorpius looked at the amused smirk on her face and shook his head, smiling.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Ginny said, smoothing down his hair the same way she did with Albus and James. "You're just being a father."

Scorpius looked over her shoulder at Albus. He knew she felt the same way about seeing her son like this as Scorpius felt about seeing Lexi suffer – helpless, inadequate and frightened, and though he was grateful she was going to look after the other children, he did hate taking her from her son.

"I'll send for you if anything happens," Scorpius assured her. To his surprise, she patted his cheek gently, reminding him so much of Grandma Molly that it hurt. It was moments like these that they all missed her the most.

"I know you will."

With that, Ginny gave one last hopeful look at Albus and left, quietly closing the door behind her.

In the silence, Scorpius looked around. The room was small and bare with only a small table beside Albus' bed, the chair Ginny had settled at his side, and the cot Dania had requested crammed into the corner. He dreaded trying to rest on it, and so he sat down instead at Albus' side, surveying the collection of sleeping and healing potions lined up there. It reminded him of the medicines he'd taken years ago – the ones Albus had kept track of and worried over. Now, it seemed, it was his turn.

"You've gotten yourself in quite a state now, haven't you?" Scorpius muttered, watching the rise and fall of Albus' chest. His throat felt tight and his chest constricted as if his lungs were being attacked as well.

The hospital was nearly silent in the middle of the night, and Scorpius looked over Albus. At the very least, the rash had stopped spreading up his neck and no new patches were visible on his arms. His breathing didn't seem much better, but it hadn't grown worse and that had to be worth something.

Scorpius was just considering trying to retire to the cot when Albus' fingers started to twitch. His head fell to the side and his breathing picked up pace. The rattling sound that escaped him was magnified in the silence, and Scorpius wished again that they'd been able to give him a dreamless sleep potion.

Instead, Scorpius took Albus' hand firmly in his own, leaning over the bed to rest against it. He lay his hand against his husband's cheek, careful of the rash on his neck.

"I really do need you to wake up and get better," Scorpius said, his voice thick. His eyes suddenly felt hot as he looked at Albus’ face and he tried his hardest to fight back tears. What if Albus could hear him or was aware that he was near? Surely crying wouldn’t make him feel better. "The kids need you. I'm not as good with them as you are and I'll surely kill them with my cooking skills if I'm left alone. Besides, you're the strong one and _I'm_ supposed to go first. We both know that. We've known it for a long time."

Albus' bad leg twitched, and he gave a groan that turned into a painful cough, making Scorpius cringe.

"It's okay, Albus," Scorpius said quietly. "I know it doesn't feel like it where you are, but you're safe here."

He smoothed his thumb across Albus' eyebrow and brushed back his hair. Albus' eyes and brow twitched under his hand but calmed a moment later, his breathing deepening a bit until it became steady again.

"There you go," Scorpius said, so relieved that his voice shook. "You'll be better soon. And you'll be home in your own bed where you can sleep soundly. Until the kids wake you to make breakfast, that is."

Scorpius lay his head against Albus' side, staying close and trying to convince himself that he was helping in some way. He couldn’t help Lexi and he wasn’t sure he’d made any of the kids feel better — except perhaps Avery. Something was clearly wrong with his brother, and Scorpius felt that his family was an undue burden on Dania, who was always overworked.

 

He closed his eyes, gripping Albus’ hand tightly in his own. What if something awful happened? Scorpius thought of all his failings as a parent — the late nights and missed meals in the hopes that his work would help some other family escape the pain of losing a loved one. He mulled over his shortcomings as a husband — irregular hours and little time together without the children.

 

Their devotion to their families had never been in question, but Albus and Scorpius had always done their best to make sure their jobs got the attention they needed too. Because they worked so well together — they’d been best friends first, after all — neither felt they had to choose between their families and their careers. Maybe they’d done too much, Scorpius thought. Maybe they’d done their time letting work escalate and sacrificing time together to ensure the kids never wanted for anything.

 

Scorpius wiped away tears on the corner of Albus’ starchy hospital sheets, biting down on his lip to keep from sobbing. He vowed that when things calmed down and Albus and Lexi were both on the mend, he would move heaven and earth to fix what he felt he’d nearly broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for coming back! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Comments and kudos are always appreciated, and I hope you have an excellent day!
> 
> As always, thanks to [Slytherin629](https://slytherin629.tumblr.com/) for betaing this fic!
> 
> [Tumblr](https://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com/)


	3. Exhaustion

Lexi had to keep running over the day in her mind to keep it fresh. First, Ginny had been there talking to her about Quidditch. Then Draco had come by and had promised her that they'd all take a long holiday over summer break. While he'd been there, Dania had come by to examine her, and had stayed until the potions kicked in. When she woke up from her nap, her dad had been there, flipping through a folder of paperwork with his glasses down on the edge of his nose, dressed down in a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt from the German museum they'd visited on holiday a few years ago. He kept reading until he realized she was awake and immediately threw the papers down to take her hand and talk to her instead.

Now, she was listening to Scorpius update her on her papa's health, and she was struggling to pay attention because he looked so tired.

"He's still asleep. He wakes up every few hours but it's taking longer for his breathing to get better than it took for you, so Dania says it's best that he stays asleep for right now. Eventually he'll wake up on his own."

"He's going to be okay, right?" Lexi asked. Her voice still didn't sound like her own, but it was getting there and speaking was far less painful. Dania assured her it wouldn't take more than a couple weeks for her to be better, but Lexi was certain she'd go mad if she had to stay in the hospital that long.

"He'll be fine," Scorpius assured her. Lexi knew his smile was forced. Beneath his glasses, the usual dark circles under his eyes had come to look more like bruises.

"Dad, have you slept at all?"

"Sure," Scorpius said. "I dozed off while you were asleep for a few minutes and last night I slept for a bit in your papa's room –"

"You should go home," Lexi said. She immediately regretted her words when her dad's face fell into a wounded look. "It's not that I'm not glad you're here, but you're going to get sick too. You need to sleep."

"Don't worry about me," he said. "Really, I'm fine. I'm just worried about you and your papa."

"Dad wrestles dragons for fun. I'm sure he can handle this."

Scorpius snorted inelegantly and gave her a  _ real _ smile (it was easy to tell the difference if you looked hard enough), which made Lexi feel a little bit better before she started to drift off again.

* * *

At first, Albus thought he was suffocating. He felt strangled, as if someone had their hands around his throat, nearly cutting off his air supply but leaving room for him to take in enough air and remain conscious.

He opened his eyes to a room tilted on its axis. It spun around him, but he didn't seem to be moving at all. No, he seemed to be quite stationary, held down by something heavy that had his arms and legs constricted. Maybe it was the same force putting pressure on his chest? He couldn't tell what it was, but there was a burning up the side of his neck – something itchy and painful, and his scalp itched something fierce, but he could tell that was because his hair was long overdue for a wash.

He tried to think and clear the fog from his mind. What had happened? He remembered coming back from Hogsmeade and feeling a little unwell. The flu. He'd had the flu. And he sent the kids to his mum and dad's house so they wouldn't get sick and he could get some rest before Scorpius came home. He hadn’t wanted to worry anyone, and Scorpius was due home in a day and Albus was confident that everything would be fine once his husband was home. 

He remembered making dinner, but getting quite dizzy. And an owl telling him Lexi was ill. He'd tried to reply, but woke up on the kitchen floor not knowing how he'd gotten there, and then there were more owls and more letters.

He'd gone downstairs to find parchment. Yes, he'd wanted to leave a letter for Scorpius and head to St. Mungo's for Lexi and explain that he was sick too, because Scorpius would find it and know exactly what to do.

So he must have gotten to St. Mungo's and just didn't remember now. He vaguely remembered his mother's face and her telling him Lexi was fine and everything was okay, but he couldn't be sure it wasn't a dream, because he also remembered a scorching heat and fire around her when she spoke.

But no, there was a dull heat now too, in his chest around his heart. It burned and burned with each raspy breath. And there was a warmth against his side and at his palm too.

Albus shifted as much as he could to look down, grateful for the pillows propping him up a few inches. There were no embers smoldering around his chest, so he knew that sensation was internal, but there was something against his hip and hand, and it was very real and tangible.

Scorpius sat at his side, his head resting awkwardly on his arm and against Albus' hip. His hand grasped Albus' loosely in his sleep, and his glasses were askew on his face with one arm dangling from his ear. The room started to come into focus, and Albus looked over at the clock. It was nearly seven in the morning now, and the last time he could remember was noon, so that must have been yesterday or the day before. He couldn't tell.

What he  _ did _ know was that Scorpius looked terribly uncomfortable. He moved his hand from his husband's grasp slowly – not out of deference to his sleep, but because he didn't have the strength to move faster. With trembling fingers, he pulled the glasses from Scorpius' face and folded them. It took nearly thirty seconds for him to move his hand to the table beside the bed and deposit them. His hand felt like lead, but he paused to look at the makeshift cards propped up on the table. They were made of folded construction paper with moving stickers and drawings he recognized as Charlie, Samuel, and Will's work. Samuel's was easy to identify, as it featured a purple dragon that breathed glowing blue fire rather prominently. He couldn't help smiling at them.

Once the glasses were safe, he dropped his hand to his side, weary. Things started to sort themselves out in his head. His mother  _ had _ been there and told him Lexi was okay. He remembered her saying something about dragon pox, and Albus felt like he was sinking into the stiff mattress as he began piecing together his fragmented memories. He took stock of his body, and realized it explained the weariness, the heat in his chest, and the painful parts of his neck, side, shoulder and leg. It explained the nightmares about fire and being held down by Death Eaters and Dementors, and it justified why he'd dreamed of a bitter taste and being surrounded by white nothingness. He must have woken with a fever and saw only the ceiling before being put under again.

And if it was dragon pox that had him in the hospital, then he'd certainly given it to Lexi when he'd visited the children.

But why weren't the others sick too? He wracked his brain – he'd hugged them all, kissed each of them on the forehead despite their protests that their classmates might see. He'd spent nearly three hours with them and had even carried their bags of sweets from Honeydukes, because Adam had a sugar quill addiction, and Lexi wanted her favorite Butterbeer taffy –

The Butterbeer.

"Damn," Albus whispered to himself, but the voice he heard wasn't his own. It was gravelly – something he'd expect from an old man near death.

Well, if he was here, then surely he was being given the best care available and so was Lexi. Albus knew Dania would never let anything happen to their little Slytherin, and neither would Scorpius.

Albus looked down at Scorpius. There were deep, dark circles under his eyes, and he was wearing one of Albus' long-sleeved t-shirts and an old pair of jeans – not his usual uniform. His skin was more pale than usual, and a dusting of light stubble covered his jaw. Albus ran his heavy fingers over it, letting his fingertips graze Scorpius' lips and cheekbones while he slept. He must have stayed the night and refused to leave, and Albus hoped someone was with Lexi too – especially if she felt as awful as he did.

Slowly, Scorpius began to stir at Albus' touch. He felt guilty for waking him, but Albus needed to see his husband and hear his voice, and maybe if Scorpius saw that he was okay, then he'd be able to go home and get some proper rest. Surely the kids needed him.

"Albus?"

Scorpius squinted up at him, adjusting to the light in the room. He blinked a few times, and Albus couldn't help smiling at him, though he could feel the dry skin of his lips cracking as he did.

"Good morning, love," Albus rasped. Scorpius' face blossomed into a grin that made him look far less tired, and he grasped Albus' hand at his cheek and held it tight between both his own.

"How are you feeling? Do you need some water? You can go back to sleep if you need to."

"Water," was all Albus could say, and Scorpius reached onto the nearby table and seized a bottle of water. He raised it carefully to Albus' lips and Albus drank greedily from it until the water was gone. He nodded in thanks and Scorpius set the bottle aside and perched on the edge of the bed, leaning over him. Albus watched Scorpius' blue eyes scan his face and Albus let him, looking back with just as much hunger for information.

"Lexi?" he asked as Scorpius smoothed back his hair.

"Fine," Scorpius assured him. "She's fine. You mum's with her now. She's young and she's bouncing back quickly. They caught it earlier with her so it didn't… well, it didn't get as far with her as it did with you."

"Pox?"

"Yes," Scorpius confirmed. "But it's okay. It took a few days, but you started responding to the treatment. Neither you or Lexi are contagious anymore."

Days? Albus looked at the clock on the wall and then back to Scorpius.

"How long?"

"You've been here for four days," Scorpius said. Albus' heart sank.

"Four?"

"Yes. It's not morning. It's seven o'clock in the evening. Your dad has the kids right now – took them maybe a half hour ago. I had to send Avery and Adam back to school, but they've been visiting you in the evenings and they'll be home tomorrow night for the weekend."

"Thursday?"

Scorpius nodded, his brow furrowing in concern. He made that face so often that small lines were forming between his brows – little creases brought on by his worry for his family. They were so faint that no one would notice save for Albus and possibly Draco, and Albus loved they had made it long enough that he could see Scorpius begin to age. He couldn't bring himself to hate the lines too much when he could also see small laugh lines forming a bit faster. As long as he made sure his husband continued to age with more happiness and laughter etched on his face than worry and sorrow, then he was doing his job.

Albus swallowed, trying to clear his throat. He braced his arms on the bed and pushed himself up to sit, but found it to be a more difficult task than he'd anticipated. With great reluctance, he let Scorpius help, but found himself instead leaning into his husband's chest halfway through, and was disinclined to move. He stopped trying and instead let his hand fall against Scorpius' side in a half-hearted attempt at a hug, and Scorpius must have understood, because he wrapped his arm around Albus' middle instead and turned his face into Albus' neck on the unmarked side.

"This is the first time you've really been coherent," Scorpius said, resting his hand on the back of Albus' head. Albus turned his face into his husband's neck, breathing in the scent of home, though it seemed to be contaminated with the smell of hospital food and antiseptic. "You've only woken up enough to be given more potions. I didn't let them give you a pain potion for more than a couple days because I didn't think you'd want it." Albus hummed in approval, feeling Scorpius' hand moving across his back. He was mildly aware of a sore patch between his shoulder blades – probably another rash – but was far more cognizant of the dull ache all over his body. His muscles, unused and tight, protested all movement.

Albus turned his face against the soft fabric of Scorpius' shirt, and Scorpius held him for a moment longer. "You haven't had a sleeping draught for more than a day, but you didn't wake up. I was getting worried."

"Sorry," Albus croaked. "Have you…" Albus stopped to take a ragged breath. Scorpius lay him back against the pillows, and though the angle seemed to ease his breathing, Albus greatly preferred the comfort of his husband's arms. "You haven't been here the whole time?"

Scorpius shifted uncomfortably. "No," he said, but Albus knew it was a lie and shot him an accusatory look. "I've been with Lexi too."

Albus looked around the room and spotted the empty cot. It looked even more uncomfortable than the bed he was in now. He shot Scorpius a confused look, which earned him a sigh. Scorpius leaned forward and rubbed his face before answering Albus' silent question with some reluctance.

"No, I haven't been sleeping on the bloody cot," Scorpius said. "I might as well be on the floor and you seemed to be having bad dreams – I know how it is when you're sick. So I just… stayed here. It seemed to help."

Albus swallowed again, trying to figure out how to conserve his voice while still communicating. "Home?"

"I haven't… no, I haven't been home for more than an hour or so," Scorpius admitted. "Your mum and dad have been taking care of the kids there. Ainsley and James, too. They've been wonderful. And Lily will be here sometime soon to help. Dad, your mum and dad and I have been taking turns staying with you and Lexi."

Scorpius muttered  _ aguameni  _ and refilled the bottle, and Albus drained it greedily as he tried to process his husband remaining in St. Mungo's for four days straight. The cool water soothed his throat, and Albus leaned back into the pillows when he was done.

"I don't remember coming here," Albus admitted.

"You don't?"

He shook his head. "I must've Floo'd?"

Scorpius gave him a sheepish smile and looked away for the first time. He twisted his wedding ring around his finger and fidgeted with the edges of his shirt for a moment before continuing.

"No, you didn't. I found you passed out on the basement floor," Scorpius explained. "I er... I had to carry you here."

"Carry me?" Albus asked, louder than he meant. He coughed into his hand, and Scorpius rubbed his arm soothingly, looking helpless. "I weigh nearly two stone more than you."

"Yes, I'm very much aware of that now," Scorpius admitted. "It wasn't easy, but I was panicked, and I wasn’t sure what magic might affect you..."

Albus tried to imagine Scorpius struggling to pull his lifeless body off the ground and cringed. He found the idea of being carried into the hospital like that to be embarrassing, even if it was his husband who had done it.

"I wish I could remember," Albus admitted.

"Dania assures me it was quite a sight," Scorpius said. "You're not light and I was very tired."

He didn't doubt it. Albus took Scorpius' hand in his own and played with his fingers, running his own over them one by one until he laced them together.

"When can I see the kids?"

"Do you want me to send for them?" Scorpius asked. Albus could tell he was eager to do anything to help, and it made him smile as his eyelids began to become heavy.

"No. As long as they're okay," Albus said, resting his head back onto the cushions. "As long as you're all okay."

"We're fine." Scorpius leaned over him, and Albus closed his eyes. A few minutes ago he'd felt a suffocating imaginary weight across his body, but Scorpius leaning across him was entirely welcome, even if it did put a small amount of pressure on his chest. Albus smiled, feeling the warmth of his husband's hand against his cheek and the familiar sensation of Scorpius' head bowed against his shoulder.

"You had me scared there for a bit," Scorpius said, and though it was a struggle against gravity, Albus managed to wrap his arm around Scorpius. He may have been the one that was ill, but Albus knew very well what it was like to watch the person he loved suffer. Maybe now Scorpius understood how it had felt just before they'd been married when Albus had nearly lost him to the same blood curse that had claimed Astoria.

"I know," Albus said. "I'm sorry."

"You should rest," Scorpius said. Albus couldn't find the energy to open his eyes, but he wasn't surprised at all when he felt a hand in his hair and a careful kiss pressed to his cheek.

"Stay?" Albus asked. "Sleep."

He felt Scorpius laugh against his side, but the sound was more relieved than amused.

"I don't think two grown men can fit in a hospital bed," Scorpius said. "Neither of us are exactly small."

"Manage," Albus requested. He forced himself to open his eyes and used what little strength he had to pull himself towards one side of the bed, though the effort left him breathing harder and feeling even weaker. Still, it was worth it for the humor of watching Scorpius struggle to wedge himself between Albus and the partial railing on the side of the bed. He smiled as Scorpius settled in beside him and drew the thin blanket up over them both.

"I must look awful," Albus said.

"You do," Scorpius replied honestly, letting Albus lay his head down on his arm because there wasn't much room for anything else. "But I still love you."

Albus still had more he wanted to tell him, like what the kids had said at Hogsmeade and how much Albus had missed him – both when he was away  _ and _ over the last months when they'd been too busy to even schedule a single meal alone together. He wanted to tell Scorpius that things needed to change for everyone’s sake.

He knew it would have to wait. As soon as Scorpius wrapped an arm around his waist and kissed his forehead, he was entirely too comfortable and was asleep within seconds.

* * *

An hour later, Scorpius extracted himself from Albus' side to trade duties with Ginny. Lexi was asking for him, and Scorpius was more than happy to oblige and go down the hall to read to her.

He ran upstairs to the cafeteria to grab a cup of tea for himself and some chocolate milk for Lexi. While he waited in line, fighting back yawn after yawn, he looked around, studying the weary faces of all who gathered there. Most of the patrons were clearly family and friends of patients, but a few wore hospital gowns and bathrobes. He couldn't imagine an instance in which one would be well-rested  _ and _ glad while visiting the hospital, even if it were for a good reason like a birth. Everything that happened at St. Mungo's seemed exhausting, though he thought that maybe that was just his current state of mind talking.

He scanned over the faces until a familiar one in the back corner caught his eye. For a brief second, he thought he'd glimpsed his own reflection in a mirror, but quickly realized he had just seen Orion, staring blankly down into a paper cup, a book open in front of him and a discarded piece of parchment laying off to the side.

Scorpius paid for the drinks straightened his weary shoulders, and walked over to his brother, trying to look more awake than he felt.

"Orion? I thought you were at Hogwarts."

Orion didn't look up at him. He just kept swirling the liquid around in his cup. "I asked Mum if I could come home early and skip class tomorrow. Mum said not to disturb you and Albus and Dad was reading to Lexi from Frankenstein, so I didn't want to stay. You always said we'd read that together."

Scorpius sat down across from him in the booth. "It's one of my favorites," he said. "Maybe over Christmas?"

Orion gave a brief scoff that clearly said he didn't believe him. Scorpius, surprised, raised his eyebrows. He'd been warned that having so many teenagers in the family at once would be tedious, but he wasn't expecting this from Orion, who was normally happy to see him. He knew he needed to get to Lexi, but Scorpius didn’t want to neglect Orion when he looked so uncomfortable.

"Have I done something to upset you?" Scorpius asked.

Orion sighed and sank back into the booth.

"Yes," Orion said. Scorpius’ heart sank. "No. I don't know."

"Well, who should I ask, then?"

Orion finally looked at Scorpius, somewhat amused by his brother's sarcasm. He looked well enough, but Scorpius knew his Ravenclaw brother wouldn't skip classes unless he really was unable to attend, and had only known him to do it when ill.

"Are you mad because Avery and Adam have been coming here without you every evening? Because I can assure you, they haven't been having fun. It's mostly been doing schoolwork beside Lexi and trying to talk to her even though she's incoherent, and trying to –"

"It's not that," Orion said. Scorpius detected a small crack in his voice and wasn't sure if it was from exhaustion, emotion, or his voice beginning to change. "I shouldn't have been up here with them anyway. I'm not Lexi's brother. I'm not one of the Malfoy-Potter kids."

Scorpius frowned at him and folded his hands on the table. He waited patiently, knowing there was something more Orion wanted to say, and he didn't want to interrupt his train of thought. Orion played with the barbs of his quill. Over his shoulder, Scorpius saw Draco enter the cafeteria, looking mostly relaxed with his hands in his pockets. Scorpius caught his eye and gave a small shake of his head that stopped Draco in his tracks. Draco tilted his head inquisitively at Scorpius, who just gave a small shrug that Orion didn't seem to notice, and Draco took the hint and backed up, heading towards the counter to retrieve a snack.

"It's just…" Orion began, but stopped quickly. He threw his quill down and leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. He seemed to find it easier than looking at Scorpius. "It doesn't bother me much, usually, but now… it just really sucks that I'm not one of your kids, so I'm not included there, but I can't be a good brother either. Not really. I’m twenty years younger than you. So I'm just kind of… around."

_ I should have avoided the awkward conversation _ , Scorpius thought darkly, knowing nothing he could possibly conjure in this exhausted state would be sufficient.

"You're a wonderful brother," Scorpius said. He wondered if maybe he didn't tell everyone how much he loved them enough. Had he not been paying attention? He thought he had been…

"Most of my friends can talk to their siblings about stuff," Orion said. "They can be there for one another. I should be able to help you. I should be able to help take care of my nieces and nephews the way James and Ainsley are. Instead I'm meeting up with them after Defense Against the Dark Arts and being completely useless."

Scorpius tried to parse together what Orion was saying.

"Are you saying you resent being so much younger than me?"

"I  _ resent _ that your husband and daughter are sick and you're exhausted and I can't help my own brother," Orion said, fiddling with the edges of the parchment. "You're more like a second father – and don't get me wrong, I'm grateful and I love you. But I've never been upset about that before.  I've never…"

"You're a great brother, Orion,” Scorpius assured him, leaning across the counter and demanding eye contact. “You are. I wouldn’t change anything. This week has just been weird.”

"You've never been in a situation where you would have needed me to be an adult."

Scorpius chuckled. "It’s funny because I’ve always loved being older because it meant I could do more for you. I’ve never had to consider it the other way around."

"That's the problem!"

Several nearby patrons looked up from their pastries and comforting beverages. Orion shrank in his seat, knowing he'd spoken too loud, and Scorpius cringed. He could see tomorrow's  _ Daily Prophet _ headline already – "Malfoy Brothers Fight at St. Mungo's While Potter's Son Lays Dying."

But he couldn't worry about that now – not with Draco looking at them from across the room, tea in hand and a concerned look on his face, and certainly not with Orion sitting across from him with his face in his hands and his tie askew.

“I’m sorry,” Orion muttered, his voice small and muffled.

"Orion, listen to me. Please."

Orion's blue eyes appeared between his fingers, and he looked at Scorpius, both conflicted and ashamed.

"You  _ are _ a good brother. We're just not… traditional siblings," Scorpius said. "You can't stay here with me or take me out for a drink to make me feel better. But you know what does make me feel better in all of this?"

"You're going to say something soppy," Orion said. "Like that you're glad I'm at Hogwarts looking after your kids or something."

Scorpius smirked at him. That was exactly what he'd been planning to say.

"Well, yes," Scorpius said.

"You and Albus are so predictable," Orion said, shaking his head. "Always being nice. Always being so supportive that you never need anyone else."

"That's not true," Scorpius corrected. "I most certainly need my family right now and I'm very glad they're around – you included. I haven't had to worry one bit about Charlie, Sam or Will because Harry, Ginny and Dad have been looking after them, and I haven't been very concerned with Avery or Adam either because I know you're checking in."

"Adam doesn't like me much," Orion reminded him. "But he has talked to me more this week. He asked for my help in Transfiguration."

"Adam doesn't know how to deal with you because you're just as smart as he is but you're better with people," Scorpius said honestly. "If he didn't like you, he wouldn't have gone to you for help."

Orion considered that for a moment, then nodded, satisfied with Scorpius' explanation.

"I do need you, Orion," Scorpius said. "And we  _ will _ read Frankenstein over Christmas Break. I promise."

"Pillow fort in the library?" Orion asked, raising the stakes. Scorpius couldn't help but to agree.

"Of course."

"You should go see Lexi," Orion said. "I'm sorry I sidetracked you. I’m sorry I’m… I don’t know what."

"Never be sorry for telling me if something's wrong," Scorpius said as he stood, very much aware that he sounded more like a father than a brother. To remedy it, he leaned over Orion and glanced at the parchment in front of him. It was a problem set for his potions class.

"You've got number fourteen wrong," he said, and ruffled his brother's hair for good measure as Orion grabbed the parchment, affronted. Scorpius picked up his tea, grinning, and walked toward the door where Draco was waiting.

"Everything okay?" Draco asked.

"Fine," Scorpius assured him. "We worked it out. I'm on my way down to see Lexi – you should come with me."

"I was going to take Orion home and come back."

"Don't bother," Scorpius said. "He'll be busy for a bit. I pointed out a potions problem that he got wrong."

Draco looked shocked, following Scorpius out the door and heading towards the stairs.

"Potions? Orion is perfect in potions. He never gets anything wrong."

"Oh, I know. And it's going to take him a half hour to figure out that he didn't have that problem wrong at all."

"Scorpius, you know how he is," Draco scolded, though he made no turn to go back and correct his eldest son's actions. "I would have never done that to him."

Scorpius grinned and sipped his tea. "Precisely."

* * *

For several days, Albus slipped in and out of consciousness as Lexi grew increasingly restless. Scorpius had seen more of the inside of the hospital in that week than he'd ever wanted to. Twice he allowed Ginny to talk him into going home for the night, and he spent those hours obsessively checking on Sam, Will and Charlie as they slept and pacing around the house, which seemed bigger and emptier without Albus. He'd gotten used to not having all the kids around at the same time, but Albus' presence at night had always been near constant. He slept on the couch downstairs for only a few hours at a time and even then it was fitful and full of worry, and he'd return to St. Mungo's early to share breakfast with Lexi and be there with Albus when he woke.

Lexi was healing at twice the rate Albus was. Her voice was nearly back to normal and she was sleeping less and getting irritated with her confinement. Sam, Will and Charlie took turns playing games and drawing with her, and when Avery and Adam came to visit they worked on homework so she wouldn't fall behind.

Albus, on the other hand, slept often and was awake and alert for brief stints of time. Each time he woke, he seemed to be able to speak more and more, which was a relief. Now, at least, he was able to tell them when he needed more water or was hungry, but he always seemed reluctant to fall back asleep. He'd told Scorpius that his nightmares were confusing and frightening fragments – exaggerated clips of things he'd seen and done and events he was afraid would someday come to pass, and Scorpius tried very hard to make sure he fell asleep thinking of happier things.

Day after day, Scorpius ran back and forth between their rooms, trying his hardest to catch Albus while he was awake without leaving Lexi for too long.

One afternoon he dragged himself down the hall toward Albus' room while Charlie napped with Lexi and Sam and Will drew pictures of owls, mooncalves and dragons for Albus, even though his nightstand was covered in them already.

When he shouldered the door open, he was surprised to find Albus sitting up, gripping a glass of water with a shaky hand and talking to his mother. When he saw Scorpius, he grinned. It was a real, genuine smile – not one of the ones he forced to try and convince Scorpius and their family that he was okay, and certainly not the unmoving and pained one he used with the children.

"Scorpius," he rasped. He held out his hand and Scorpius quickly slid between Ginny and the edge of the bed to take it. Scorpius sat down beside Albus' knees, careful not to jostle him, and took his hand firmly in his own.  Ginny smiled at them, covering her mouth as though she'd been laughing about something and was trying not to continue.

"What?" Scorpius asked.

"Mum was telling me an interesting story," Albus said.

"About?"

"Your jealous streak."

Scorpius felt his ears go pink. He scowled at Ginny, who continued covering her grin uselessly. It was visible that she was trying not to laugh. Albus bit his lower lip in an effort to keep laughter at bay and failed. Not only were his lips chapped and dry enough to begin bleeding, laughing sent him into a coughing fit that lasted more than a minute and sounded terribly painful.

"See, that's what you get for laughing at me," Scorpius said, though he knew very well that he would have done the same.

"Tell me," Albus said when he calmed down and leaned back into the pillows, taking a few large gulps of water to soothe his throat.

Scorpius sighed and looked up at the ceiling, silently cursing Ginny for telling him.

"I wasn't going to let just anyone give my unconscious husband a sponge bath," Scorpius said. "Can you imagine the  _ Daily Prophet  _ headlines if someone took a photo of that tattoo on your shoulder?"

"Oh, Merlin," Ginny laughed. "'Sinister Malfoy Brands Husband Potter As His Own'," she speculated.

"'The Twisted Malfoy-Potter Marriage'," Albus added. "Maybe they'd make it out to be some new kind of Dark Mark."

"Yes, that was clearly your intent," Ginny said to Scorpius, accusing. "Avoiding ridicule. It had nothing to do with you not wanting that pretty blonde nurse taking off his hospital gown."

Scorpius felt the back of his neck heat up as he took a clean cloth from Albus' night stand and cleaned the blood from his husband's lip. Ginny was right – Scorpius  _ had _ been jealous.

“Well, I do have a thing for blondes,” Albus said. Scorpius glared at him. "So you're why I don't smell as awful as I feel?"

"Maybe," Scorpius said. Albus felt along his own jaw.

"Did you shave me too?"

"Maybe," Scorpius repeated.

"You missed a spot."

Scorpius scowled at him. "You're terribly annoying when you're sick."

"If I'm so annoying then maybe you'd like to let the pretty blonde nurse give me my next sponge bath, then."

Scorpius glared at him, and Albus grinned back, neglecting his split lip. For the first time since Scorpius had found him on the floor, he didn't sound terribly pained. His eyes were clear and he sounded significantly better than he had.

"You seem better," Scorpius said, setting the teasing aside.

"I feel better. A lot better."

"His fever is down," Ginny added. "Dania came by a few minutes ago – she said it's almost gone."

"Good," Scorpius said. "It's Tuesday. You've been in here for more than a week. Lexi will be ready to go home soon."

"I've lost track of time." Albus' voice was gloomy and Scorpius understood the feeling of disorientation that came we being ill. Ginny lay a hand on his arm, soothing and gentle. Scorpius could barely remember being sick as a child and having his mother take care of him, but the memories he did have felt warm and safe. He was glad Ginny was here for Albus – he was sure there was nothing like a mother's love when one was sick, though he couldn't remember it well himself.

"Where is Harry?" Scorpius asked.

"He's in Germany with Charlie. They're helping the ministry there secure the reservation where Albus got sick. They're trying to stop the pox before it spreads," Ginny explained. "He took this very personally."

"Of course he did," Albus groaned. Scorpius could already see his eyelids beginning to droop. He took the glass of water for safe keeping. Though the color had returned to his face, Albus' strength had not, and Scorpius knew the longer he was in that bed, the weaker he'd be when he came out of it.

"He knew it's what you'd want him to do," Ginny said. Albus nodded in agreement just as the door opened.

"Merlin, Al. You look worse than dragon vomit," Lily said, sauntering in with Draco on her heels. Orion slipped in quietly behind him and stayed close to the foot of the bed in the now-crowded room. Scorpius wrapped an arm around Orion’s shoulders and grinned at his sister-in-law as she tossed her expensive-looking duffel bag under the spare cot and promptly bent over and hugged her mother.

"Thanks," Albus said, rolling his eyes. Lily's personality sometimes threatened to take over entire rooms, but Scorpius never minded. They saw so little of her these days as she was traveling around the world as a business consultant for wizarding shops. She'd been responsible for the globalization of Madam Malkin's more than a decade ago and hadn't stopped since.

"I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner," she said, bending over Albus and kissing his forehead. He gave her arm a gentle squeeze before talking Scorpius' hand again and holding it tight. "I was in Hong Kong. I missed the message initially and by the time I  got in touch with Mum you were already stable. I wrapped things up so I finally spend some time at my own home."

"It's okay," Albus said. "Truly. I wouldn't have even known if you had been here."

"That bad, huh?"

Albus tried to explain the last few days to her, but between his confusion about the timeline and his frequent breaks to cough, Ginny and Draco had to take over. Scorpius listened quietly, running his thumb over the back of Albus' hand. Draco explained how Lexi was doing, and Scorpius watched as Albus' eyes started to close. He met his husband's gaze and gave him the warmest smile he could, hoping Albus wasn't set for another round of uncomfortable dreams, and bit back a yawn as Albus' head fell heavily back onto the pillow.

"Lexi should be out soon," Draco said. "Dania said Albus will likely need to stay for several days longer."

“Good,” Orion said. “She’s going to have quite a time catching up on all her missing work.”

The yawn Scorpius had fought finally won and he shook his head, trying to clear it. He needed to stay awake. As soon as he was sure Albus was well asleep, he had to return to Lexi's room and help her with her Transfiguration homework…

"Scorpius, are you okay?" Lily asked.

Scorpius gave her a forced smile and nodded as he slid to the edge of the bed to get to his feet. As soon as his trainers hit the ground the sterile tiles underfoot seemed to move, throwing him off balance and turning his legs to jelly. His knees buckled and he grappled at the bottom railing of the bed.

"Watch it," Orion said, catching Scorpius around the waist and steadying him.

"Sorry," Scorpius said, shaking his head again.

"Have you slept at all?" Ginny asked, rising from her seat. The commotion was enough to wake Albus from his light doze, and he looked at Scorpius being supported by Orion with concern, struggling back into a sitting position.

"I slept a little last night," Scorpius said, but furrowed his brow a moment later. Had it been last night? Or had it been yesterday afternoon? He couldn't remember – it was all starting to blur together with days blending into nights.

"Scorpius,  _ go home _ ," Albus said. "Dania said Lexi is doing well and I'm  _ fine _ ."

"I need to help Lexi with her Transfiguration work," Scorpius protested.

" _ I'll _ help Lexi with her Transfiguration," Lily said, her voice as firm and unyielding as either of her parents'. “I’m a bit rusty, but we can manage.”

Scorpius steadied himself and Orion carefully pulled his hands away. As much as Scorpius respected Lily’s skills as a witch, she had just spent a long time traveling and looked weary (well, as weary as Lily ever looked without ever having a hair out of place). Lexi had been through enough without having her school books accidentally transfigured into mice. Scorpius caught Draco looking on in concern as he blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision.

“Actually… Orion, you’re top of your class in Transfiguration. Do you think you could help her?” Scorpius asked. Orion’s eyes brightened, and Scorpius could see the corners of his mouth twitch in an attempt to hide a smile. “You’d be more familiar with the material anyway.”

“Of course,” Orion said. 

Scorpius gave him a sleepy smile and the relief of knowing he’d done something to make Orion happy  _ and _ help Lexi made him feel wobbly. His knee buckled and despite not moving, he lost his balance and grappled at the edge of the bed. Albus gave a start and sat up, wincing with the motion but reaching for Scorpius all the same. Scorpius shook his head, waving him off as if to say it was nothing.

"You need to rest, Scorpius," Draco said, immediately stepping closer to Scorpius and slipping his arm around Scorpius’ waist for stability.

"I don't want to go home," Scorpius said. He wanted to sound defiant, but his voice came out breathy and tired. The last thing he remembered before Draco pulled him towards the extra bed was Albus declaring that he was about to pass out. Since he was right, Scorpius never got the chance to protest.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
> 
> Thanks as always to [Slytherin629](http://slytherin629.tumblr.com/) for editing.
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr.](http://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com/)


	4. Fever

Scorpius woke slowly, dragging himself from a heavy sleep that threatened to take him back under. As he came back to consciousness, his eyes felt heavy and he battled himself, trying to stay awake and figure out what had disturbed him in the first place. Albus was across the room – too far to touch and check on, he realized with disdain – and he appeared to be asleep. Dania was moving around, whispering to someone.

Scorpius reached for his glasses, but someone's hand fell on his as he leaned toward the nightstand.

"It's fine," said Dania. "If you won't leave either of them, then the least I can do is put them in the same place for a few hours."

Scorpius recognized the blur of wild black hair as Lexi as she climbed onto the bed next to him. She came into focus as she came closer, and Scorpius saw that she looked almost entirely like herself, save for the bandages protecting the healing rashes on her arm and calf.

"Grandma Dania said you nearly passed out because you hadn't slept," Lexi explained.

"I…" He caught Dania's warning look (obvious even without his glasses) and swallowed hard. Lying would be useless. "Right. I let myself get too tired. You shouldn't do that. Do as I say, not as I do."

"Silly," Lexi said. She nestled herself into his side and lay her head against Scorpius' chest like she did when she was very little. Scorpius automatically wrapped his arms around her, stroking down her hair to kiss the top of her head. Who knew when her next bout of surly-teenage attitude would strike again? He had to enjoy these moments while he could.

"Thought you were too old to be cuddled by your parents," Scorpius said.

"Don't tell anyone," Lexi said, her voice sleepy and heavy. Scorpius chuckled and within seconds she relaxed into his side and her breathing – now thankfully almost normal – slowed.

Scorpius looked up at Dania. She stood nearby with her arms folded and a soft smile on her face.

"Thank you," he whispered to her. She nodded and tucked the thin hospital blanket around both him and Lexi as Scorpius succumbed to sleep once again.

* * *

When Albus woke, his vision was hazy and his leg ached as it had been for the last few days. He itched to get up and move around, but knew he couldn't do so without assistance. He knew it was hours later than when he'd first fallen asleep after Scorpius had been safely settled on the cot. As the image of Scorpius leaning against Draco for support returned to him, Albus felt his heart skip a beat in concern.

He needn't have worried. Albus looked across the room and saw Scorpius asleep on the cot. He was surprised and relieved to see Lexi at his side between Scorpius and the wall, facing him. Her head lay against Scorpius' chest and her wild hair was splayed across his shoulder and bicep as she slept with her small arms wrapped around Scorpius' middle. The bandages covering the pox rash on her arm had been removed, and Albus could see the skin healing far faster than his own.

Albus shifted over to face them, trying to ignore his aching leg and protesting muscles. He was glad she was healing fast – Albus had never excelled at seeing the children upset or in pain, but he'd always managed to keep himself together to help. Being unable to help her  _ and _ unable to see her had been torture, but if she was well enough to be moved from the children's ward to his room, then that had to be a good sign, didn't it?

Albus watched Lexi sleep, settling in on his side despite the pain it caused down his hip and leg – the kind of pain that gave him flashbacks to being seventeen and leaning into Scorpius for support as they walked up and down the halls of Hogwarts. It seemed like another life now – those weeks preceding their graduation were hazy and garbled in Albus' memory. He didn't often let himself think about it, but now, as he studied his husband's sleeping profile after this hellacious week, he let himself sink into the memory.

It wasn't as anguishing as he would have expected. Instead, Albus remembered waking up in the middle of the night holding Scorpius not unlike how Scorpius held Lexi now – with one arm around her shoulders and a hand cradling the back of her head. He remembered Scorpius bringing him dinner in the dorm when he couldn't fathom walking to the Great Hall and long nights spent sprawled on the rugs of the Slytherin common room as they studied, sides pressed together and fingers laced for comfort. He had thought then that it would have been impossible to love him more than he already did.

If only he'd known then what he knew now. He'd missed Scorpius so much before he'd come home from Canada, and Albus realized then that he'd missed him far longer than that. Even when they had been together recently, they had been separated by excessive work, exhaustion, family obligations and devotion to their children.

A spectacularly loud snore came from the corner of the room and Albus nearly jumped out of his skin. Harry was sitting in a chair left for visitors, fast asleep with his head resting against the wall. He was still wearing his traveling coat – a sure sign that he'd just returned from Germany. He must have come straight to the hospital and found everyone asleep.

The sound stirred Scorpius but not Lexi. Albus watched as Scorpius glanced around, squinting and disoriented until he located the source of the noise. Harry continued snoring lightly, but Albus was able to block it out – growing up with his dad's terrible sleeping habits and James' inability to stay quiet had taught him to focus and sleep deeply.

Scorpius' gaze settled on Albus as Lexi, slightly disturbed by his movement, tightened her arm around her dad's waist and muttered something unintelligible into his shirt. Albus watched Scorpius' pale hand move through her hair, soothing her back to sleep and he grinned. He loved watching Scorpius with the kids, and even though Scorpius' stubbornness had him looking more bedraggled than Albus had seen him in ages, he felt a sweeping fondness for his husband.

Whatever Scorpius was thinking, he seemed to agree with Albus' sentiment. He smiled warmly at Albus – it was a smile that clearly said  _ I love you _ without making a sound, which Albus hoped he was adequately returning. Scorpius appeared to be fighting to stay awake, but his eyelids already looked heavy again. Albus watched over them, thinking of all the things he wanted to do with his family as Scorpius yielded to his exhaustion again. He wrapped his long arms tighter around Lexi, who smiled contentedly in her sleep.

* * *

"This sucks," Albus protested, gripping the railing of the bed so hard that his knuckles turned white.

"You could let me get your cane," Scorpius said, standing a short distance away. Albus could see his twitching, outstretched hands ready to help if needed.

" _ No _ ," Albus said. He didn't even know where the cane was. He hadn't touched it for well over a decade and had no intention of breaking that streak now. Besides, none of the children had ever seen him with it outside of a few old photos (ones Albus would have rather seen destroyed) and though he’d never lied about it, he’d never contradicted their belief that his sometimes-sore leg was the result of a Hogwarts Quidditch accident. Besides, he wanted to keep his image as a badass intact. 

"Then let me help," Scorpius said, patient as ever. Albus looked over his shoulder at him. After sleeping for twelve hours straight with Lexi tucked safely at his side, Scorpius looked a world better. There was color back in his face and his eyes were bright and alert as he waited for Albus to consent to his assistance.

"Oh, alright," Albus groaned.

Scorpius was beside him in an instant. His arm wrapped around Albus' waist, offering support and stability that Albus was all too happy to lean into. He released the railing and let Scorpius guide him slowly and carefully to the door. It was a long way up the hall and back to the children's ward, but if they went at this pace, surely Albus would make it.

"Merlin, I'm exhausted," Albus muttered after several minutes of slow, agonizing movement down the hallway. It was times like these when Albus could rest his head against Scorpius' shoulder as they walked that he was genuinely grateful to be shorter than his husband.

"I know," Scorpius said, sympathetic. "Getting better takes a lot of energy and you were… you were  _ really _ ill, Albus."

Albus looked up at Scorpius. His jaw was tight as he stared straight ahead, his eyes unfocused. As they walked several members of the St. Mungo's staff gave them a wide berth and Albus wasn't sure if it was because he looked so ill or if it was because they were so recognizable.

"Are you okay?" Albus asked. "I mean, as okay as you can be in this situation?"

"I'm fine," Scorpius said without meeting Albus' eyes – a sure sign that he was lying.

"You're not," Albus said as they arrived at Lexi's room. "But we'll talk about it when I come home."

Scorpius pressed a grateful kiss to Albus' temple.

When they reached Lexi's room, Albus felt himself relax at the sight of his daughter. Lexi was sitting on the edge of her bed in her own joggers and t-shirt instead of the hospital's ugly pajamas and was being examined by Dania. Her hair was pulled back from her face and the bandages that had been covering evidence of the pox was gone, revealing fresh but healing skin. She spotted him and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hey, Papa," Lexi said.

"You look like you're ready to make a jailbreak," Albus joked as she slid down and walked towards him. He leaned against the spare cot for balance as she hugged him around the middle, burying her face against his chest.

"It feels like it," she admitted. Albus held her close with one arm, trying to ignore the sensation that his leg was about to give out beneath him. The last thing he wanted was to worry his daughter when she was on her way home.

"How much longer will you be here?" Lexi asked. She reached up and lay her hand against his forehead and the sight nearly choked him. Albus remembered checking her for fevers as a child when she would get sick, and now she was trying to look after him. It seemed like only yesterday they'd brought her home – but then again he could have said that about any of the kids.

Lexi's mouth curved into a frown. "You have a fever."

"I'll be here a few days longer," Albus said. "But that's good. That means you can have your dad all to yourself. He can take care of you for a few days until you go back to Hogwarts."

Lexi looked over at Scorpius.

"I thought you'd stay here with Papa," Lexi said. She glanced at Dania, who remained notably silent as she packed Lexi's schoolbooks into her bag. "I thought I'd stay with our grandparents –"

"No," Albus interrupted. "You need to go home, love. Sleep in your own bed. And so does your dad."

Scorpius looked terribly torn as he looked between Albus and Lexi. They'd argued this point for a solid ten minutes over breakfast (cold eggs and waxy bacon – Albus couldn't wait to get back to his kitchen). Albus gave his husband a pointed look and Scorpius nodded.

"I'm taking you home," Scorpius told her.

Lexi's brilliant grin told him they'd made the right decision. Still, he wasn't looking forward to being stuck in St. Mungo's without either of them. He held his tongue as Dania tucked potions into Lexi's bag and looked her skin over one more time before sending her home. Albus noticed the patch on her arm had healed spectacularly, but the one on her calf was still bandaged. Dania peeled back the edge of it and Albus could see the rough, uneven skin beneath and knew it would scar, though not nearly as bad as the one down his own side.

"A few days and you can remove the bandage," Dania assured her.

"I just have to make up a better story for the scar," Lexi said. "Something better than dragon pox. Maybe a Chimaera?"

Albus shook his head. "Salamander fire would leave a mark closer to that."

"Don't encourage her," Scorpius scolded. Albus could see the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. Lexi wrapped her arms around Albus' waist and lay her head against his shoulder.

"You'll come home soon, right?"

Dania answered for him. "As soon as his fever stays down for two whole days."

"See? That can't be too hard," Albus told her. "And soon it will be Christmas. Have you decided what you want?"

Lexi considered his question for a moment, her small hands twisting the back of Albus' shirt nervously between her fingers.

"I just want everyone at home for a day," Lexi said. "Just a day."

Albus looked up to his husband. It was clear he'd had similar talks with the kids and found it equally upsetting.

"We'll do that," Albus said. He kissed the top of her head as Dania handed Scorpius Lexi's bag. "I promise."

That assurance seemed to be enough for Lexi. She stepped back from him, leaving him feeling cold and alone.

"I can come back later," Scorpius said. "Check in this evening."

Despite not wanting to be left alone in Saint Mungo's, Albus shook his head.

"Stay at home. Get some rest. I'm just going to sleep anyway."

Scorpius nodded, but he didn't seem happy about it. To Albus' great surprise, Lexi slipped her hand into Scorpius' and held it tight.

"Right, just get some rest," Scorpius said. "We'll be fine. I won't cook. I promise."

Albus laughed, and Scorpius let go of Lexi just long enough to kiss Albus goodbye.

"Be safe," Albus said.

"Get some sleep." Scorpius nuzzled Albus' temple for a moment before letting go with the utmost reluctance. He wrapped his arm around Lexi, who looked relieved to be escaping, and together they left the room to head home.

Without the motivation to appear stronger than he felt for his daughter, Albus all but collapsed against the spare bed. Dania quickly levitated a chair over to him, and Albus fell into it with a groan, grasping at his thigh.

"I would have been happy to never have to deal with this again," Albus muttered. Dania crouched down beside him, her lime healer's robes spreading out on the sterile tan floor beside her.

"It's temporary," Dania said. "You know it is. It's just because you've been stuck here for two weeks. You're used to being far more active."

"I miss my kids," Albus admitted with more sincerity than he could have dared with Scorpius. He was well aware that he sounded more like a pouty child than a father of six, but he felt more like a child who'd been forced to do something he simply didn't like. He was sick of the hospital and its bad food and itchy clothes. He was tired of being away from his home and his animals, and even though he knew the kids and his animals were in good hands, he felt inadequate not being there to protect and care for his family. He hadn't been a very good father or husband lately, and being locked up here wasn't giving him the opportunity to fix it.

Dania sighed and sat back on her heels. Albus rubbed his face, irritated.

"You'll be able to go home soon," she assured him. "But not if we don't get this fever down. So how about we get you back to your room and get a fever draught and some pain potion for that leg?"

"No pain potion," Albus said, shaking his head.

"Al, it doesn't mean you're weak if you need it."

"It's not that," Albus said. He would have loved to not be in pain anymore, but the remote chance that he'd have trouble coming off of them was too much of a risk. He remembered how difficult it had been at eighteen and couldn't fathom it now that he was older. "Just… no painkillers, okay?"

Dania had always had an instinct for when people didn’t want to talk about things, and Albus was grateful when she simply nodded, understanding and accepting his refusal. She got to her feet slowly – Dania was finally starting to show her age – and held her hand out to help Albus up but he couldn't bring himself to take it.

"Do you think you could maybe… get a wheelchair?" Albus cringed at the thought.

Dania gave him a sympathetic look and smoothed down some of Albus' hair (he cringed again, knowing it badly needed a wash).

"Sure," she said. "And don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

Albus believed her entirely and as she left, he wondered if his daughters loved Grandma Dania because she gave great advice and kept secrets, and all at once he forgot about his pain in place of worry over what those secrets might be.

* * *

Scorpius was more than happy to support Lexi as they stepped from the fireplace into their living room. She took a deep breath - free from shuddering or pain - and smiled.

“This is better,” she said.

“I agree wholeheartedly,” Scorpius said, releasing her only to lay her bag on the nearby recliner. Lexi took this opportunity to go directly to the main sofa in the room and collapse onto it, burying her face in the soft pillow in the corner.

“Are you hungry?”

Lexi nodded as Ridgebit trotted into the room, her tail swishing back and forth. She leaped onto the couch and lay across Lexi’s legs, laying her head between her shoulder blades.

“Hi, ‘Bit,” Lexi said, twisting and reaching around to pat Ridgebit’s side, earning her a calm lick to the hand that Scorpius thought was very restrained for their usually energetic dog.

The house felt unusually dreary, as it had since this whole ordeal began. It was nearing mid-December and none of the Christmas decorations had been put up. There was no tree. The only light came through the windows, filtered through the heavy gray clouds that threatened either a cold rain or snow - Scorpius couldn’t tell which. Through the kitchen window, he could see the barn in the distance. Giana, the retired magizoologist who helped Albus out when he needed it, had clearly been by this morning to tend to the animals - the lanterns were lit and there were fresh tracks in the pasture from the mooncalves and likely the mending hippogriff Albus had rescued weeks ago. It felt like a lifetime, and even though Scorpius had been back for a few hours at a time, he felt he truly hadn’t been home in months. Maybe that was what being busy and balancing insane schedules did to a family. He wondered if Albus felt the same.

It would have been terribly easy to fall into his favorite armchair and curl up under the last blanket Grandma Molly had made them - now worn, but no one could bear to put it away \- and rest until this was all over and his entire family was at home safe and sound. He wanted to ignore the world until the sun came back out, Lexi was well, the kids were home from Harry and Ginny’s, and Albus was home making breakfast on Christmas morning, singing his favorite carols off-key with the kids while Scorpius watched from the doorway, loving them silently until his coffee kicked in.

But Lexi needed him now, and that was more important than anything. She rolled over on the couch, and Scorpius was struck by how sallow her face looked. It was clear that she’d been unwell, so Scorpius decided to do exactly what Albus would do in this situation.

“I’ll be right back,” Scorpius promised as Ridgebit settled back down on Lexi, keeping her company.

He went into the kitchen and lit the lanterns and the stove burners with a wave of his wand. He prayed Draco hadn’t forgotten his few small requests and was relieved when he opened the refrigerator door to see a very large container of Harry’s chicken noodle soup, two cartons of eggs, milk, and an unexpected ornate cake box from Scorpius’ favorite bakery in London.

He pulled out the soup and filled a saucepan. He threw bread into the toaster and turned on the nearby kettle before spotting a stack of papers neatly piled on the counter with a note on top. He spotted James’ handwriting and considered pouring himself a glass of whiskey before opening it, but realized he’d feel even more pathetic for drinking at 11 o’clock in the morning. With a sigh, he opened the letter.

_ Favorite Brother In-Law _

_ These are the non-urgent files from this week. While you’ve been away we’ve received a shipment from the Canadians (you did great job on that, by the way) as well as a secondary shipment of books and records from Russia (I did a great job on that). These are all of the final requisition papers confirming that we’ve received and recorded them and will return them by the deadlines. The reports in the files are already complete and they only need your review (though I’ve already checked them) and signature. _

_ I’ve got the team on-pace so there’s nothing to worry about in the office. Only three things of note - _

_ Martha was out sick for a week and Jimmy picked up the slack, so remember he gets credit for it. Alexander finally scheduled his wedding for May. Don’t worry - I’ve already gotten us both out of it since it’s the weekend of Ainsley’s birthday. We’re going to have to make sure there’s a party or something and none of us can go to work that Friday. Sorry. And Sara announced yesterday that she’s pregnant. You know how long they’ve been trying so we have to get a cake for her when you come back. _

_ Everyone sends their well wishes to Albus and Lexi and would like to remind you that everything is okay here for now and that you should take the time you need. _

_ I put a fresh bottle of Cognac in the cupboard. _

_ See you soon. _

_ -Your favorite brother in-law _

“Thank you, James,” Scorpius whispered as the kettle began to whistle. Scorpius always trusted James as the Assistant Director of the Department of International Academic Collaboration when he had to take brief trips or time away from the office, but this was the longest he’d gone without a full day at work - Scorpius had only stopped in for a single, rushed meeting a week ago - and had relied on James to bring him everything urgent that needed review or authorization. He was grateful for James all over again as he realized the documents that weren’t time-sensitive had been set aside so he could deal with them when he got home.

Scorpius peeked in the cupboard and spotted a familiar bottle of his favorite Cadmus Cognac.

“Merlin bless you, James Potter,” Scorpius muttered, even more grateful for this than the perfectly organized files.

With tea, soup, buttered toast, and the stack of files under his arm, Scorpius returned to the living room where Lexi had wrapped herself in Grandma Molly’s blanket. Her grin at his return made Scorpius’ heavy heart lighten considerably.

“Soup?”

“Grandpa Harry’s soup,” Scorpius confirmed, setting the tray down in the table in front of her. She seized the bowl greedily and began eating as Scorpius settled in at her side, much to Ridgebit’s dismay.

Lexi wrinkled her nose. “I like Papa’s better.”

“Papa uses Harry’s recipe,” Scorpius reminded her.

“Papa’s is still better.”

“Yeah, it is. But don’t tell Harry that.”

“Of course not,” Lexi said through a mouthful of toast. Scorpius knew she must have been hungry if she was disregarding her manners.

“Do you need anything else?” Scorpius asked, trying to make the room feel like home again by lighting the lanterns, fireplace, and the candles in the huge wrought-iron fixture that hung from the ceiling. “I made you tea, but if you want a different kind, I can get it. Grandpa Draco brought cake.”

Lexi shook her head. “I’m fine, Dad. Really. I’m just going to fall asleep anyway.”

Scorpius fell silent, feeling somewhat inadequate as she ate the rest of her lunch. Lexi’s throat had been so sore for days that she’d been reliant on various types of broth. Scorpius imagined Harry’s hearty chicken soup was something out of a dream. Only when all the food was gone and she was sipping at her tea did Lexi sink back into the couch and look at him.

“Where are Charlie, Sam and Will?”

“They’ll be back tonight,” Scorpius promised her. “They’re with Harry and Ginny.”

“Are they okay?” Lexi asked. “Is Charlie alright?”

“Charlie is… well, she took you two being sick pretty hard. I think she was worried that she’d lose one of you. Adam had a few anxiety attacks, but he’s with Orion and Avery,” Scorpius explained. “I think Avery was mad that she couldn’t help you. She takes being your big sister very seriously.”

“I know,” Lexi said. “She kept braiding my hair because she thought it would help.”

“Did it?”

“Well, yeah, but you do it better.”

Scorpius smirked with a bit of superiority as she handed him her teacup. He set it aside as Lexi leaned against him, tired and spent with heavy eyelids. He adjusted the blanket around her, making sure she was covered and warm.

"Is this okay?" Lexi muttered, already starting to sound sleepy. "Do you need to work?"

"There's nothing important," Scorpius assured her, kissing the top of her head. "Nothing more important than you getting some rest and getting better."

Lexi seemed satisfied with this and relaxed against him, falling asleep within seconds and leaving Scorpius in a pressing silence. Though he'd asked for some quiet to let Lexi rest and calm down, he suddenly wished the rest of his children were home – that they were here playing and chattering and filling the quiet so he wouldn't have to feel Albus' absence so much, and when it got to be too pressing, he reviewed the documents James had left in an unsuccessful attempt to occupy his mind.

* * *

James normally enjoyed visiting his brother's house. He'd spent so many happy holidays, birthdays and regular evenings here with Ainsley and their kids. He'd enjoyed countless hours playing with his nieces and nephews on the floor and in the grass outside, watching them learn to walk and speak and think for themselves, and, though he'd never admit it, he knew he'd learned several things about how to be a good father from Albus and Scorpius' example.

So when he stepped into the Malfoy-Potters' living room two days after Lexi had come home from the hospital, he was very anxious to be arriving bearing unhappy news.

Lexi was asleep on the couch with Charlie nearby, reading from a book James recognized as one he and Ainsley had bought for Avery  years and years ago. He stopped for a moment and watched her, proud that she was catching up to her siblings so quickly after learning to read so much later than they had. It had been one of the biggest challenges Albus and Scorpius had faced when Charlie had first come to stay with them – one they'd devoted countless hours working with her on, even when she got frustrated and cried because she couldn't read an entire page of one of Lexi's old toddler books on her own.

Now, Charlie had a book of children's fairy tales open in her lap. She still hadn't mastered silent reading and her mouth moved as her eyes scanned the pages slowly.

Sam was stretched out on the floor with one of the handheld muggle video games. He lay on his stomach, fully engrossed in the tiny screen, mashing the buttons as quickly as he could while Will painted atop a sheet used to protect the carpet. James recognized the shape of a mooncalf at a distance, and he knew Will was painting a picture for his papa, since they were all expecting Albus to come home tomorrow.

A tiny gasp caught his attention, and he looked back at Charlie to see her grinning, exposing the gap on the side of her mouth where she'd recently lost two of her remaining baby teeth.

"Uncle James!"

James couldn't help smiling when she tossed the book aside and rushed to him. He scooped her up and hugged her tight, more for his own comfort than hers. Within seconds he felt Sam and Will hugging him from either side.

"Uncle Jamie!"

"Did you bring us Aunt Ainsley's biscuits?"

James looked down at them, not sure which boy had said what. Their voices, unlike their interests and personalities, were near-identical. James always felt like an inadequate uncle when this happened.

"It's good to see you, too," James said. "And no, I didn't. I'm sorry."

"Awww," said Sam, thoroughly disappointed.

Lexi sat up on the couch, rubbing her eyes. James was sorry he had to disturb her, but it was an unfortunate necessary.

"How are you feeling, Lex?"

"Getting better," Lexi said, rubbing her eyes. "A little sore still, but I think I can go back to school in a day or so."

 

"That's excellent," James said, relieved. "I'm glad to hear it."

Scorpius came in from the kitchen, drying his hands. Normally, James would have panicked at the thought of Scorpius rummaging about and trying to cook in Albus' kitchen - he remembered the Great Crepe Catastrophe on Adam’s birthday three years ago - but he had other things on his mind, and it must have been obvious.

"James? What's wrong?"

"Nothing serious," he lied, setting Charlie down on the ground. "I just need to talk to you."

"Is it work?"

James paused for a second, gently peeling Will's arm from around his waist.

“Yup.” 

Scorpius blinked a few times, and James knew he was processing the lie. Scorpius knew all of his tells, both because they’d worked together for years and because he shared most of them with Albus.

 “Let me get you a drink, then,” Scorpius said. The kids, bored with the idea of adults talking in the kitchen, went back to what they were doing and James followed Scorpius to the kitchen island. The kitchen was open by design - Albus wanted to be able to cook while watching the kids in the evenings - and James resolved to present the situation as quietly and calmly as possible. 

“Albus is sick,” James whispered.

Again, Scorpius blinked at him. He looked tired and beaten and seemed sluggish. James expected that the ongoing stress of having an ill spouse and child was enough to break someone, and he resented being the bearer of more bad news.

“I know. That is usually why people stay in the hospital…”

“No, I mean he got worse. His fever spiked overnight. I just went by before work to bring him some muffins Ainsley made last night and I guess it had just started to get out of control. He’s… well, he’s a bit out of his mind. I think he’s hallucinating.”

“Hallucinating?”

“I think he’s remembering when Avery was born,” James explained, watching Scorpius’ expression contort into something so worried and helpless that he regretted coming here at all, because surely he was better off not knowing. “You know, because he’s in St. Mungo’s. But he’s also muttering about Craig Bowker and he won’t let Dania give him any medicine.”

“Merlin,” Scorpius whispered, what little color he had draining from his face. “Is he there alone?”

“Dania is with him still,” James assured him.

“You didn’t want to stay? You could have sent a patronus.”

“He needs you. Not me. I wanted to make sure you knew,” James said. His jealous inner-teenager revolted at the idea that his little brother could need anyone more than he needed James, but he fought the impulse down. Now wasn’t the time.

“I’ll stay with the kids,” James offered. “ _ Go _ .”

Scorpius nodded quickly and grabbed his wand off the table, shoving it in his pocket. He made for the kitchen exit, but paused, the soles of his shoes making a loud  _ squeak _ on the tile. He turned and drew James into a crushing hug - the kind that quieted James’ feelings of inadequacy because Scorpius really was a Potter at heart.

“Thank you,” Scorpius said, squeezing James tight before letting him go. He rushed from the kitchen and James sayed put, watching from the counter as he said a hasty goodbye to the kids. Lexi stared him down, knowing something was amiss. She clearly didn’t believe his assurance that this really was a work emergency - nothing to worry about - but didn’t say anything as he tossed some Floo powder into the fireplace, leaving a trail of it on the stone in front of the grate, and disappeared. 

Four pairs of inquisitive eyes turned to James and he sighed, rubbing his face. These were Malfoy-Potter kids, and there was only one way to distract them.

“Sandwiches?”

* * *

Scorpius was getting very sick of the smell in St. Mungo’s. Now, as he walked down the hallway to Albus’ room - and it was now  _ Albus’ _ room, not just the room where Albus was staying since he’d been there for so long - he felt nauseated, both from the uncertainty of what he could be facing and the smell of the abrasive cleaning potion the hospital staff used to clean the floors each night.

 He heard his husband’s voice before he could even open the door - a frantic, breathy sound that Scorpius had never really heard before. He heard his name and Avery’s name in the muddled, fragmented conversation, and even if he wanted to, he couldn’t have paused to catch his breath after hearing the panicked tone in Albus’ voice as he talked over Dania, who was trying her best to calm him.

 “Albus, please calm down -”

“Is Delphi still out there? She’ll kill someone else like she killed Craig —” 

Scorpius winced at Craig’s name. There was rarely a day that went by that Craig Bowker Jr.’s last minutes didn’t cross his mind, but it normally wasn’t so forceful and immediate. It gave him pause and he heard Dania continue to try and calm Albus.

“Al, please.”

“Where’s Avery? I  _ need _ to see my daughter -”

“Avery is fine, I promise. Please lay back down.”

Albus looked worse than he sounded. Scorpius opened the door to see Dania with her hands on Albus’ shoulders, trying to force him to lay back down. Albus’ hair was limp with sweat and his skin, which was still healing and remained blessedly free of new rash patches (at least what Scorpius could see), was pasty and pale with a grayish tinge that didn’t suit him at all.

“Scorpius, please,” Dania hissed.

“Where is Avery?” Albus demanded upon seeing Scorpius. “Why did you leave her? Is she okay?”

“Avery is fine,” Scorpius said, forcing himself to stay calm the same way he did when Adam had an anxiety attack. He crossed the room, letting the door fall closed behind himself. “I promise. I got an owl from her this morning.”

Albus’ brow furrowed in confusion and he stopped fighting Dania, who stepped back, giving Scorpius space. Scorpius wasn’t sure he thought that was a good idea - he had no idea what to do, but he was drawn to his husband’s side nonetheless. He perched on the side of the bed, his hip pressed into Albus’ side. The sheets were damp with sweat and Scorpius sought out Albus’ hands and found them to be slick and far too warm.

“An owl?”

“She’s at Hogwarts,” Scorpius said. “Safe and sound. She and Adam were worried about you.”

“Hogwarts?” 

“Hogwarts. They’re at school. Lexi is still at home. She’ll go back the day after tomorrow.”

Albus looked down, confused. “Oh.”

 Scorpius looked to Dania, helpless. He spotted two empty bottles of fever-reducing potion on the table beside her.

 “What happened? He was so much better last night.”

“His fever must have spiked while he was asleep,” Dania said. “I came in to check on him before I made my rounds and James had just walked in. I’ve given everything I can - if I give him more it’ll just come up again, but it should start working in the next ten minutes. Sometimes dragon pox causes a violent fever spike before it breaks entirely and subsides. It’s rare, but it happens in extreme cases. I’ve just never seen it happen this late.”

Scorpius winced, listening to the sound of Albus’ short breaths. This was different from the raggedness from his singed lungs and throat. That had subsided and he’d sounded near-normal for days, but now he was short of breath and exhausted. Dania came forward and Scorpius smelled the distinct odor of potion brewed with yarrow, elderberry and feverfew. She reached forward, but Scorpius shook his head and took the potion-soaked cloth from her hand and found it chilled. The moisture sank into his skin, cooling it and nearly numbing his fingertips.

With all the composure he could muster, Scorpius tilted Albus’ weary head up by his chin and pressed the cloth to his forehead. Albus winced but complied, most likely because he didn’t have the energy to fight.

“It’s okay,” Scorpius assured him. “Everything is okay.”

Albus whimpered, leaning forward into Scorpius’ shoulder instead of falling back to lay on the cushions. Scorpius didn’t care that the moisture from Albus’ skin was seeping through the thin shirt he wore, or that Albus’ entire body was slack with exhaustion. He held him up and continued rubbing his skin with the icy cloth, letting the potion seep in and holding him still when he mustered some energy to cringe away from the cold.

“Are Sam and Will okay?” Albus muttered against Scorpius’ chest, his voice muffled and quiet. 

“They’re fine,” Scorpius told him. “They spent yesterday evening reading with Charlie in a blanket fort. I wish you could have seen it before Ridgebit knocked it all down.”

“And Lex? She doesn’t -” Albus shuddered as Scorpius pressed the cloth to the nape of his neck. “She doesn’t have this anymore at all, does she?”

Scorpius bit his lip, feeling Albus’ hands shake as he closed them weakly around the hem of Scorpius’ shirt. He was barely conscious after a week of steady recovery, and now he was more concerned about their kids than he was his own condition.

“She’s fine,” Scorpius assured him. “I promise. Barely a scar.”

Albus leaned heavily into his side.

“Scorp? Is this going to kill me?”

Scorpius cringed and turned his face into Albus’ unruly, damp hair. He wished so deeply that he were the one who had fallen ill - that  _ he _ were the one at risk instead of his husband. Albus was too valuable to the children, their family, and the community - far more valuable than Scorpius.

Scorpius’ must have taken too long to answer, because Albus slumped down on the bed, curling up at an awkward angle to rest his head on Scorpius’ lap. “I think it might.”

“You’re not going to die from dragon pox,” Scorpius told him. Albus groaned, rolling onto his back, and Scorpius couldn’t blame him for feeling that way. He’d been there himself and Albus did look terribly pale. Even his lips had lost their color. “You’re just delusional from the fever.”

Dania lay her hand on Scorpius’ shoulder. She already looked weary from the day before she’d even begun her rounds.

“You’re going to be fine, Albus,” Dania said to him. Albus looked up at her with one eye, clearly disbelieving. “You just feel like you’re dying.”

Scorpius looked up at her to make sure she believed what she was saying. She gave him her usual reassuring, warm smile - the one that reminded Scorpius so much of Orion and his honesty that he just had to believe her - and nodded.

“I’m going to give you two a minute and go check on a patient across the hall,” Dania said. Scorpius sighed, thankful for her understanding. “If you need me, just yell. I’ll hear you.”

He nodded and accepted a motherly kiss to the top of his head with gratitude. Dania left and when the door closed behind her, the cramped room fell silent and felt even smaller. Scorpius felt distressingly warm, and not just because his husband felt like a human furnace at his side. He was uncomfortable in his helplessness and exhaustion. Disappointment at the setback began to settle in. He looked back down at Albus, who shivered as he lay his head on Scorpius’ lap.

“Why am I getting worse?” Albus asked. “I was feeling better. I thought… I thought I’d get to come home."

Scorpius let out a slow exhale, running his hand down Albus’ arm in the most soothing manner he could muster, feeling the involuntary trembling in Albus’ muscles.

“I don’t know,” Scorpius whispered. “You were so ill when you came in. Maybe we overestimated how fast you were getting better.”

“I don’t feel like I’m getting better,” Albus muttered, turning his face into Scorpius’ stomach. Scorpius tried to put away his usual self-consciousness at the bit of extra weight he carried around the middle now (he blamed Albus’ cooking entirely). “I really don’t want to die the way your grandparents did. Or with any regrets.”

Scorpius’ hand fell still and he looked down at Albus. His face was mostly hidden from view, but Scorpius could see the tension in his jaw and the crinkles along Albus’ eyes that told him Albus was in pain. Scorpius knew he wouldn’t have even mentioned Lucius and Narcissa if he’d been in his right mind - that Albus knew this was very different, and that Scorpius didn’t need to think of losing his husband to the same illness that took his grandparents. He lay his hand against Albus’ temple, feeling the heat of his skin. There was no way Albus was thinking clearly. 

“Do you have regrets?” Scorpius asked tentatively.

Albus groaned. “A few.”

Scorpius stared down at him. He shouldn't press, he told himself. Albus was sick and delirious and clearly not himself, but if Albus had regrets about his life then Scorpius needed to know… or maybe he didn’t want to.

He swallowed down the lump in his throat and stroked Albus’ hair because he didn’t know what else to do with his hands as Albus shuddered, his eyes closed but his breathing remarkably even as he began to slip into that twilight state between awake and asleep. Scorpius sought out the damp cloth again, discarded on the sheets, and began pressing it into every bit of Albus’ skin he could reach, not minding at all that it made his hands feel like ice.

For several long minutes, Scorpius sat in silence. The heat coming off Albus’ skin that screamed  _ illness _ and  _ pain _ did nothing to quiet his mind as he started making lists of all the things Albus could regret in life. He could regret the small things, like the night he’d let Rose and Teddy drink him into a three-day hangover, or the big things, like marrying Scorpius and not having children that shared his brilliant eyes and wild hair. 

Maybe Albus had spent all this time cooped up thinking about the things he wanted to do and would come home with a new bucket list, and maybe it would be drastic… Dania talked all the time about patients who had crises brought on by illness and near-death experiences, and it wasn’t like Scorpius was a stranger to the idea. When he’d been ill at twenty he’d emerged acutely aware of life’s brevity and was ready to get married and start a family immediately.

When the door opened and Dania entered - this time with Draco close behind - Scorpius realized they’d only been alone for a few minutes. With the anxiety of Albus burning and shivering and the word  _ regret _ buzzing around Scorpius’ mind like an incessant mosquito, it had seemed much longer.

Dania reached over and felt Albus’ forehead, earning her a faint groan of contempt as she rolled him onto his back.

“His temperature is starting to come down,” she said. She looked at Draco and he smiled at her, placing a proud and protective hand on her shoulder. “It should be back down to a low-grade fever in a half hour. I’ll monitor him from there. Hopefully this was the pox’s last attack on his system and he’ll recover fully.”

“I want to take him home,” Scorpius muttered. “He’s been here for so long.”

“Soon,” Draco assured him. “He’ll come home soon and everything will be right by Christmas.”

Somehow, hearing it from his dad made Scorpius believe it - at least a little bit. As he carefully arranged Albus back under the sheet and situated him comfortably on the pillow Scorpius had brought him from home, he tried to picture Albus at home, healthy and happy as he wrapped the kids’ Christmas presents and planned their yearly Christmas prank on Uncle Charlie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks to [Slyherin629](https://slytherin629.tumblr.com/) for her beta-reading skills!
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](http://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com/)


	5. Uncertain

The anxiety built  slowly. After Albus’ fever had finally stayed down for the entire afternoon and evening, Scorpius went home to relieve Ainsley (who had taken over after work) and put his children to bed before getting some sleep himself. As soon as he’d tucked Charlie in - she’d worked herself into quite a state worrying about her papa - the house was entirely silent and the worried buzzing came back into his mind.

The sensation was familiar. It happened often when work was stressful or things were busy at home, but this was more intense. It grew louder and more consuming as Scorpius walked upstairs, changed into his pajamas, grabbed a pillow and promptly turned his back on the bed and returned downstairs to the sofa bed. Since he rarely out-slept the children, no one had ever noticed that Scorpius never slept in his bedroom when Albus wasn’t home. He couldn’t bear the empty space beside him or the coldness of Albus’ pillow when he would turn over and find his face buried in it. It woke him and left him confused in the night.

So Scorpius waved his wand with a yawn and watched as the main sofa unfolded itself and spread into the spare bed used only around holidays and when Lily came to stay with them. It was comfortable enough that he could rest but unfamiliar enough to keep him from going into the deep sleep where nightmares waited, and Scorpius could feel them creeping up on him beneath his anxiety and doubt.

Weary, he fell onto the bed and spread out, taking up as much space as he could so he wouldn’t feel so alone. It didn’t help. He stared up at the intricate iron chandelier that hung from the exposed wooden beams of the ceiling, wondering if he’d be able to decorate it. They were in the middle of the second week of December already and Scorpius was behind on all his holiday-related obligations  _ and  _ Albus’ responsibilities.

_ Regrets _ , Scorpius thoughts.  _ Regrets, regrets, regrets _ . He stared up at the dark ceiling and wracked his brain, trying to identify what Albus could regret. Was there something he hadn’t done that he’d wanted to? Was there anything Scorpius had talked him out of or into? There were several things they kept putting off - like building the library addition onto the house and creating a second barn to separate the rehab animals from the ones they owned. Albus hadn’t gone back to Brazil yet, and he hadn’t taken Avery to a dragon preserve like he’d promised… and then there were the big regrets Scorpius didn’t want to consider.

He shook his head and turned his face into the pillow. He took a deep breath and groaned as he caught the distinct scent of Albus’ shampoo on the fabric. Clearly, he’d grabbed the wrong pillow, and it drew another wave of anxiety and longing over him, and Scorpius felt himself sink even deeper into it.

* * *

Taking Lexi back to Hogwarts was easier than Scorpius had expected. She’d bounced back quickly once she had adequate sleep and was eager to get back to lessons and her friends for a bit before Christmas break came around. Scorpius made her promise she’d write daily to check in, and she promised she would, for both her parents’ sake. It was the only thing that set him at ease, since Lexi never broke promises.

Albus’ improvement was steady once the fever had broken, as was his growing restlessness and aggravation at his body’s weakness after being still and wracked with disease for weeks. He grumbled at nurses, insisted upon walking everywhere despite needing a cane (a sight that gutted Scorpius), and ground his teeth in frustration while Lily caught him up on her work one evening when Scorpius had come to visit.

“Work didn’t want me to head back to England over the holidays,” Lily said, perched atop the foot of his bed. “I suppose they miss me terribly, but the break has been nice. I’ve got excellent presents for everyone and managed to decorate the house  _ and _ the Burrow with mum and dad. You’re going to love it.”

“I haven’t gotten to do any of that,” Albus muttered, bitter. Scorpius watched from the edges of the room as he threw himself back against his pillows in frustration, tension working along the muscles in his jaw. Though he looked better overall, Scorpius could see that his skin had lost its color and his cheeks looked more hollow than he’d ever seen them. He was more stubbly than he’d been since the ill-fated goatee experiment a few years prior as he’d refused to let anyone help him shave but hadn’t been able to muster the energy to do it himself.

“I haven’t done anything,” he said, the edge of his temper rising in his voice. Scorpius frowned but stayed put as Albus worked a thread loose from the sheets, unraveling the hem. “I haven’t bought a single Christmas present and the house still hasn’t been decorated and I have to get all of the things to make Christmas cookies and our usual Christmas Eve dinner.”

Scorpius knew what Lily was going to say before she opened her mouth but he didn’t have time to stop her. Instead, he just leaned against the wall and braced himself.

“Why don’t you just bring everyone to Mum and Dad’s house? They’d probably love that.”

Albus’ eyes narrowed. “That’s not the point.”

“I don’t understand. It’s not your fault -”

“I _never -_ _we_ never just let things go with the holidays. Ever,” Albus stammered, outraged at Lily’s suggestion. “And this will be Charlie’s first really _normal_ Christmas with us. The fiasco with her mother didn’t end until just before the holidays last year and I just wanted it to be perfect for her. I’d been planning it in my head for months.”

Lily gave Albus such an affectionate look that Scorpius couldn’t even be mad at the pity in her eyes. Fortunately, Albus didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy glowering at the footboard.

“I’m sorry, Albus, Lily said. “Is there anything I can do?”

Albus’ eyes brightened hopefully. “Help me escape?”

“Yeah, I’m too afraid of your husband for that,” Lily said. “I don’t think he wants you leaving until the healers have said you’re ready.”

Lily looked at Scorpius and he nodded solemnly, sliding his hands into his pockets as he leaned back against the wall.

“You’d be right,” Scorpius said. 

Albus sank back into the cushions, scowling, and Scorpius could only hope Albus’ ire wasn’t directed at him. 

* * *

Like they did every year, Harry and Ginny had taken the kids that were too young for Hogwarts for a couple days under the guise of letting them shop for one another and their parents’. Of course, this had been instituted when Lexi and Avery were young and Albus and Scorpius needed some time to shop for them in secret, and it had simply carried on over the years (with the exception of Charlie’s first year with the Malfoy-Potters. When Christmas had come around, she was still too skittish and uncertain to leave Albus and Scorpius for more than a few hours). 

This year, Draco had decided to join in on the action as soon as he heard Albus was set to be released on a Tuesday morning. Once Harry and Ginny were done with the kids, Draco was set to take them to London for two days to catch a play and see the city in all its holiday splendor (and likely spend an obscene amount of money on Christmas gifts). Scorpius had agreed in a haze of weariness, grateful for his family when he knew Albus would need rest the most. The kids, of course, had been upset that they wouldn’t be home when their papa arrived, but were understanding when Draco explained that it was in Albus’ best interest that he have a quiet house and some peace.

“It’s not in his best interest,” Scorpius had muttered to his father after the children agreed.

“No, it’s in  _ their _ best interest. You and I both know that Albus has been in a foul mood since the last round of fever. I don’t care  how much you love your children - when you’re ill and they can’t understand your limitations, it’s infuriating,” Draco said, giving Scorpius a pointed look. Astoria had rarely shown any irritation toward Scorpius, but when she had it was during the beginning of her final decline after Scorpius ’ second year at Hogwarts. She’d always apologized immediately, but Scorpius remembered what that felt like.

“Fair point.”

“Besides, I think Albus is a smidge self-conscious about the cane and he’s going to need it for a few more days.”

Scorpius had cringed at the idea, but was spared further memory when Charlie had approached them to inquire once again about her beloved papa’s wellbeing.

Now, Scorpius woke in a silent house, groggy and disoriented. He had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him he was deeply bothered by something, but it took a minute for his mind to connect to what his body already knew - that it was Tuesday and Albus was coming home from St. Mungo’s. His stomach clenched at the notion of Albus’ unhappiness, his pain, and whatever lay underneath that made him feel regret and loss.

He blinked up at the ceiling, tracing the lines of the polished wooden beams that he and Albus had stained themselves when they’d bought the country house. What was normally a happy memory felt as dim and gray as the sky outside threatened to open up again.

Scorpius blinked at the window. He normally woke relatively early, but it was far lighter outside than he would have liked. He scrambled to the edge of the mattress, kicked the arm of the couch and swore, and grabbed his watch from the table.

“Damn it,” he said through gritted teeth. It was well after 9 o’clock and Dania had said she’d be ready to discharge Albus first thing in the morning, which was half past eight on her schedule.

Scorpius grabbed his wand and cast a quick  _ incendio  _ at the fireplace to get the flames started and scrambled into yesterday’s clothes, which lay discarded beside the sofa. He ran into the downstairs bathroom to clean up - it seemed like a waste of precious seconds to run upstairs - and splashed cold water on his face before rushing back to the fireplace and haphazardly tossing a handful of Floo powder into the flames.

He never had his balance, and the graceless start to the brief journey had him stumbling out of St. Mungo’s Floo connection and onto his knees. He inhaled a mouthful of ash on the way down and landed coughing and sputtering on the reception mat.

The Floo attendant shuffled towards him as fast as she could. “Are you alright, sir?”

Scorpius coughed into the collar of his shirt as he sat back on his heels and choked out “I’m fine” as his nose and lungs cleared. He looked up at the attendant. She was an older woman with a kind face and deep laugh lines etched around her mouth. As he struggled to get his feet under himself, the woman stepped back and Scorpius realized she hadn’t had time to recognize him before he’d tripped. She stepped away several steps, her eyes wide.

“I don’t bite,” Scorpius said, fighting the urge to glare at her. Normally frightened looks didn’t bother him unless he was with the kids, and they were so infrequent now that he and Albus didn’t consider it too much when they were out, but every once in a while it caught him off guard, especially when it came from an older person and Scorpius knew they were looking for some remnant of Voldemort in his eyes.

The old woman didn’t say anything and Scorpius sighed and looked around at the large lobby. It was a relatively quiet day, and his eyes were immediately drawn to two familiar faces - Dania standing at the circular counter at the center of the room and Albus seated in a small arc of chairs nearby with his duffel bag and a hospital-issued cane on the seat beside him.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Scorpius stammered as he walked towards them, trying and failing to brush the dust from his clothes. He was already late and didn’t want to be greeting his husband looking like a house elf. “I didn’t mean to be.”

Albus smiled up at him with sleepy eyes. He was tapping his toes on the floor and drumming his fingers idly against his knee - a sure sign that he was experiencing the familiar dull ache up his leg and side. 

“It’s okay,” Albus said. “Really. It’s early and you must be exhausted.”

“Still. How long were you waiting here?”

“Not long. I promise.”

Scorpius looked to Dania for confirmation and she paused filling out paperwork. She handed the clipboard to the receptionist and thanked her before walking over to where Albus sat waiting.

“We came down about a half hour ago,” Dania told him, which did nothing for Scorpius’ guilt. Simply sitting up seemed to be exhausting Albus. He opened his mouth to apologize again, but Albus shook his head.

“It’s fine. Really.”

Dania grabbed a small box from behind Albus’ duffel bag and handed it to Scorpius. He fumbled it and heard the distinct sound of clinking glass vials.

“Three days worth of healing potions and fever reducers, just to be safe,” Dania said. “Don’t want to take any chances. If it were anyone else I would have kept them another day or so, but I knew he’d be in good hands.” Dania lowered her voice. “Besides, he’s getting… _ restless _ .”

“He’s terrorizing the lower-level healers, isn’t he?”

“Two of them blatantly refused to treat him.”

Scorpius wasn’t sure if he was amused or embarrassed, but he chuckled anyway when Albus piped up from his side.

“Are you talking about me?” The smirk on his face said plainly that he knew they were.

“Perhaps,” said Dania. “We wouldn’t be if you hadn’t made a scene.”

Albus didn’t look guilty at all. Instead, he grabbed the cane and struggled to his feet, reluctantly accepting Scorpius’ aid and leaning into his side. Scorpius wrapped his arm around Albus’ shoulders and took the bag full of items they’d brought to St. Mungo’s over the last few weeks - his favorite mug, pictures from the kids, and a few of Albus’ old favorite books.

“Is everything good? Anything else we need?”

Dania smiled warmly at them and shook her head. Like she often did, she reached up and patted Scorpius’ cheek - something he saw her do frequently with Orion. It made him love her even more, but it also made him ache for his own mother, and for Grandma Molly.

“You’re good to go,” Dania assured them. “I’ll come by and check on you in the morning.”

“Thank you,” Albus said to her, leaning heavily into Scorpius’ side despite the cane. “For everything.”

“It’s what family is for,” she said.

As they turned and walked back to the fireplace, Scorpius focused solely on Albus - the way he moved, the comparative coolness of his skin, and the way he desperately needed a long bath at home with his favorite soap so he could smell more like himself again. He was so caught up in the relief of finally,  _ finally, _ taking Albus home where he belonged that he barely even acknowledged Dania approaching the Floo attendant to give her a talking to or the  _ Daily Prophet  _ reporter snapping their photo as they left the hospital.

* * *

Albus was certain he’d never been happier to step into his own living room. Sure, the house seemed a bit cold and  _ off _ , but it was his home and it smelled like cedar and Ridgebit and Will’s acrylic paint. He spotted one of Charlie’s small picture books on a corner table and a fresh grape juice stain on Avery’s favorite armchair that was surely Lexi’s doing. Even in all its disarray, it was home.

“I think Dad arranged for the house elves to come the morning the kids come back for Christmas,” Scorpius said. “So about three days from now. I’m sorry it’s such a mess. It’s been busy and  —”

“It’s fine,” Albus assured him, tightening his arm around Scorpius’ waist. He scanned over the room as Scorpius tossed the bag aside and kicked off his shoes before lending Albus the support to do the same. His leg ached so rarely now that letting Scorpius hold him steady felt like visiting Hogwarts always did — like he didn’t quite belong, but it brought nostalgia in waves all the same.

“Thanks,” Albus said as Scorpius took his hoodie and threw his shoes over toward the fireplace and Albus felt heavy and sleepy. For a brief moment, Albus dreaded tackling the stairs. They were steep and it was two flights up to the attic they’d converted into their bedroom, but then he realized why the living room seemed so  _ off _ . 

“Why is the sofa bed pulled out?” Albus asked.

“I, um… I didn’t think you’d want to climb up.”

“But it looks slept in.”

Scorpius sighed and stepped away to sit down on the edge of the mattress. “I never sleep upstairs when you’re not here,” Scorpius said. “Not if I can help it. And I overslept and rushed out to get you and I just… forgot.”

“You always sleep down here?” Albus asked, pointing at the bed with his cane. “You’re an even pickier sleeper than Adam.”

“Yeah, I know,” Scorpius said, rubbing his face. Albus noticed how pallid Scorpius looked. Deep, dark circles stood out under his eyes, and he looked as if he hadn’t slept for days, and maybe he hadn’t.

“So why..?”

“I don’t sleep well when you’re not here anyway. Not sleeping in our bed helps, or at least that’s what I tell myself.”

Albus stared at him, aghast. He wondered how he hadn’t noticed something like this - that fresh sheets when he left for a routine work trip remained fresh when he returned, or that pillows had been switched. Was he that distracted all the time? What else had he missed?

“Merlin, Scorp,” Albus muttered. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay,” Scorpius said. 

“I kind of… I do the opposite,” Albus admitted. “I sleep on your side of the bed when you’re not home.”

Scorpius lowered his hands and smiled at him. “I know,” he admitted.

“Of course you do,” Albus said, both amused and somewhat ashamed of himself. He took a few unsteady, lumbering steps towards Scorpius and leaned the cane against the end table. He let Scorpius pull him close and felt his face turn against his stomach. Albus smiled and ran his hand back through Scorpius’ hair, astounded as always that it had stayed so smooth through the years. 

“I’m glad I’m home,” Albus whispered, though there was no one around to hear.

“I’m glad you are, too,” Scorpius said, his voice muffled. Albus moved to step back - to rid himself of his jeans and the heavy flannel button up that Scorpius had brought for him, but as soon as he did, Scorpius tightened his hold and held him in place.

Albus nearly asked what was wrong, but in the silence he heard the smallest sniff and felt a slight shudder from his husband. Somehow, it reminded him of an evening more than a decade ago when he’d stretched out on a sofa at 12 Grimmauld Place with Scorpius curled up into his side. They had watched television for hours, and Albus had clung to him, confident for the first time in months that they had a future after Scorpius and Ainsley had been freed from the Greengrass curse. He remembered the way it felt, being home and being safe after weeks of uncertainty.

_ Oh,  _ Albus thought. He stepped back closer, placing all of his weight on his good leg. He let Scorpius cling to him, feeling Scorpius’ long fingers curl around the back of his shirt, pulling it tight. 

“I’m okay,” Albus assured him, letting his hand rest on the nape of Scorpius’ neck. “I know it was a rough couple weeks, but I’m okay. The kids are okay. Everything is okay.”

“If you say so,” Scorpius said, barely audible. 

Albus frowned at his tone. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Scorpius said. He sat back a few inches, letting Albus go but not meeting his eyes. “Nothing, I’m just tired and being silly.” 

Albus frowned as Scorpius slid back against the spare guest pillows he’d retrieved from the basement cabinet. He was grateful for the room however, and sat down on the mattress, sighing with relief at the pressure taken off his sore leg. He made quick work of stripping down to his pants and undershirt — no one was there to care anyway — and he pulled himself to the top of the bed beside Scorpius.

“What do you need?” Scorpius asked. “I’m meant to be taking care of you, aren’t I?”

“I need you to stay here with me and take a nap,” Albus said. “You look like you haven’t slept for weeks.”

“‘M not really sure that I have,” Scorpius admitted. Albus sighed, torn between his desire to do something —  _ anything  _ to make their world seem a little brighter, whether it be Christmas decorations or the smell of a home cooked meal wafting in from the kitchen — and his body’s waning energy. When Scorpius relented and stretched out alongside him, laying his head against Albus’ chest, comfort won and Albus let himself close his eyes. Surely those were problems for tomorrow-Albus… maybe even two-days-from-now-Albus…

“Is work okay?” Albus asked. “I hope you’re not buried…”

“There’s a small mountain of stuff I have to do,” Scorpius said, yawning into Albus’ shoulder. “But James brought everything so I can stay here and take care of you.”

“Do it tomorrow,” Albus requested as his eyelids began to close of their own accord. He shifted down into the pillows and rested his sore leg atop Scorpius’ knee, and as he started to drift off, he felt an extraordinarily warm hand running over the sore places of his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was short, I know. You'll have the final one towards the end of the week.
> 
> Thanks as always to [Slytherin629](http://slytherin629.tumblr.com/) for editing.
> 
>  
> 
> [Questions, comments and rants are always welcome here and on Tumblr.](http://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com/)


	6. Homecoming

For three days, Albus’ relieved sleep was broken by brief periods of groggy, dissociated hours spent watching television shows he couldn’t watch with the children around — zombies and monsters and murderers — even a new web series Adam had told him about made by the muggle studies N.E.W.T students at Hogwarts who were learning to use muggle technology earlier in the year. He grinned each time he saw one of his children in the background of shots in the corridors and stopped Scorpius from working to watch each time Avery was caught in the background studying with her friends or Adam was seen scurrying from class to class, hugging his books tight with Lexi at his side, trying to dodge the camera.

As his strength returned, he ventured outside — once to chat on the porch with James and Ainsley, and once to make the long trek out to the barn to visit his creatures and catch up with Giana (after that experience, he vowed not to do that again until he could walk nearly-unassisted, as his cane got stuck in the mud repeatedly).

Most of the time, however, he sat dazed and tired at Scorpius’ side while he worked. Albus watched in silence as his husband’s eyes darted over pages as he tried to catch up on work and tried over and over again to find the best way to say ‘thank you’ for all the time he’d spent at the hospital and ‘I admire you’ for the way he’d looked after the children. He even loved the way Scorpius had ensured the kids were away and having fun so Albus could have time to recover and become a functional human and good father again — but each time he thought he’d found the words, they slipped away again in a haze of sleepiness and he convinced himself that Scorpius knew. He was too smart not to.

Fortunately, the fog cleared just as the children were preparing to come home from Hogwarts. Draco had arranged to meet them at King’s Cross with Sam, Will and Charlie where Albus and Scorpius would pick them up along with Avery, Adam and Lexi, but as usual, things didn’t go according to plan.

“I’m sorry,” Scorpius said for the thousandth time. “I am. I didn’t realize… our office coordinator got the dates mixed up. She doesn’t have kids so she didn’t realize —”

Albus set his coffee mug down on the table. “Scorp, it’s fine. I promise. I’m feeling much better and all I have to do is Floo to the Foundling Museum and walk up the street.”

Scorpius bit his lip, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s two really long blocks.”

“I’ll be fine. The kids don’t even have their trunks with them.”

“You haven’t been out —”

“I’m feeling much better,” Albus assured him. “I promise. Besides, your work is important and I’ve kept you away long enough.”

“It is,” Scorpius assured him. “Very. I’ll tell you more when I get home.”

“Will you be home for dinner?”

Scorpius paused, looking down into his cup of tea as if it had some answers. “I should be.”

“So that’s likely a ‘no,’” Albus said. Scorpius looked up at him, guilty.

“I really don’t know,” he said. “I’ve already taken so much time… James really is a lifesaver. He set this up so I just have to do this today so I can take the next week off like I’d planned. I’m trying.”

“I know you are,” Albus assured him, reaching across the table to pat the back of his hand in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “It’s okay. I’ll be with your dad once I have the kids. We’ll be completely fine.”

“Are you excited to see them?”

“More than I can say,” Albus admitted, and Scorpius smiled for the first time that morning. “I’ve been glad for the quiet these last few days — I really think it helped — but I’ve missed them so much, Scorp. I’ve missed things feeling normal.”

Scorpius looked relieved, and Albus suspected he hadn’t been sure if sending Sam, Will and Charlie to stay with their grandparents had been the right choice. Albus laced his fingers with Scorpius’ and gave him an encouraging smile just for good measure.

* * *

The kids found him on the platform nearly all at once. Sam and Will came barreling out of nowhere and nearly knocked Albus to the ground from his place leaning against a pillar. Draco tried to grab them in time and looked prepared to scold them when Albus shook his head, laughing as he hugged them both.

“They’ve never seen me like this, Draco,” Albus said, nodding to the cane he’d leaned against the bricks. “They didn’t know.”

Draco sighed and rubbed his face, and Albus spotted Charlie at his side, wringing her hands and looking up at him with the utmost uncertainty.

“Hey, Charlie,” Albus said. He hadn’t realized how tense he was without his kids around until he had some of them back, his youngest most of all. He and Scorpius had been so focused on helping Charlie over the last year. They’d spent time getting her caught up educationally and helping her work through her trauma and adjust to a stable life (or as stable as life in the Malfoy-Potter home could be), and Albus found that he worried irrationally when he was away from her for too long. He worried that her nightmares would return and there’d be no one there to hold her and tell her that everything was alright, or that she’d get frustrated while trying to read and cry for an hour.

Sam stepped back to make room for his sister, but Charlie hesitated, twisting her fingers and biting her lip (a habit Albus was certain she’d picked up from Scorpius). After a moment of careful deliberation, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Albus’ middle, hugging him gently.

“You’re okay?” she asked, her voice so small Albus nearly didn’t hear her.

“I’m okay,” Albus assured her, letting her press her face against his stomach. He looked up at Draco, who was waiting patiently nearby with his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers. “Thank you.”

Draco smiled. “Any time. We had a good couple days, didn’t we?”

Sam stepped back nodding enthusiastically. “We did! We had cocoa and we built a pillow fort near the fire and we went to the bookstore, and we —”

Draco chuckled. “Now, Sam. Don’t go telling him too much or you’ll give away what you got everyone for Christmas.”

Sam’s eyes widened at his near-blunder just as Lexi and Adam stepped through the crowd, dragging their heavy rucksacks along behind them.

“Papa!” Lexi grinned at him and dropped her bag at Draco’s feet, ignoring her grandfather and rushing straight into Albus’ open arm. He held her tight and kissed her temple twice. She looked so much better than the last time he’d seen her - her skin no longer had a sickly, pallid look and the smile on her face was energetic and genuine.

Albus squeezed her tighter as Charlie moved out of the way. Adam had his arms around his brothers and was answering Sam’s rapid-fire questions about his semester at Hogwarts and Charlie sought refuge from the chaos at Draco’s side.

“Papa, are you all better now?”

“I am,” Albus assured her. He let her step back so he could look at her, and Lexi beamed up at him. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” Lexi said. “Ready for Christmas.”

“Good. I’m going to need your help decorating.”

Adam piped up as he moved to hug Albus, who ruffled his hair as soon as he could.

“You haven’t decorated?”

“I’m only now feeling almost like myself,” Albus explained hugging his son tight. “And your dad’s been taking care of me and trying to catch up at work. We can Floo home and then go get the tree in the village.”

“Great,” Adam said, stepping back with a grin. He looked more tired than Lexi, and Albus suspected the end-of-term exams had increased his anxiety. He vowed to make today the most stress-free Christmas decorating experience he could and reached for his cane, ready to seek out Avery and get moving.

The kids looked at it but said nothing. They were familiar with Albus’ injury - he limped sometimes when he’d been especially active - and knew that it was an old problem dating back to his seventh year at Hogwarts, but that didn’t stop Adam from eyeing the cane with suspicion.

“It’s just that old injury,” Albus assured him. “Being ill and not moving much for weeks made it act up. I’ll be fine in a couple days.”

This seemed to be enough of an explanation for Adam because he just hoisted Lexi’s rucksack up off the ground without another word. Draco took Charlie’s hand and turned as if they were going to set off to find Avery, but he froze a second before Albus realized what he had seen.

Avery was standing nearby, staring at Albus with wide, concerned eyes. Her lower lip was trembling and her hands were clenched at her sides as her eyes flickered from her Papa’s face to the cane in his hand.

“Avery? Love, what’s wrong?” Albus asked, stepping towards her and biting down a grimace (the first step was always the hardest). Adam placed his hand on her shoulder, ready to comfort her but Avery didn’t flinch or even look at him. She just stared at Albus, her brown eyes wide and watery and her jaw clenched.

Draco stepped up to her side. “Did something happen on the train?” he asked. “Did one of the other students do something?”

Lexi tugged at Albus’ sleeve. He looked down at her and she shook her head. “Nothing happened on the train,” she said. “I was with Avery the whole time. She did homework the whole way here.”

Albus frowned even more, concern beginning to chill him head to toe as Avery moved towards him and folded her arms around his middle, burying her face in his shoulder. Albus held her tight with his free arm. “What’s wrong, love?” he asked again, quite certain that no one else could hear. Draco frowned at Avery’s distress and shot Albus a knowing look before turning to distract Adam and Lexi by asking them about their term. He dominated their attention, and Charlie, Sam and Will were all too happy to listen.

She muttered something that sounded like “nothing” against his shoulder, but a rise in the considerable noise around them drowned her out. Albus avoided the gaze of a former classmate, unwilling to engage in conversation with his daughter so obviously distraught. This was more than a mediocre grade on an end-of-term exam or a crush gone wrong. Avery was difficult to rattle, and she was very clearly disturbed.

“What’s that?” Albus asked.

Avery straightened up and stared Albus in the eye, nearly his height now. She wiped the tears from under her eyes, her gaze both hardened and hurt.

“Why did you let me think it was a Quidditch accident?” Her voice was low enough that the others couldn’t hear, but Albus didn’t understand why.

“What are you —”

Albus didn’t have to finish. Avery’s hand fell on top of his where he gripped the cane. He swallowed hard, feeling his throat tighten.

“Oh. That.”

Avery stared at him, her jaw set in a manner reminiscent of Ginny as she stood, impatient for him to continue. Albus didn’t know what exactly she’d learned, but he was certain it was closer to the truth of how he’d been injured than what she’d come to believe as a child.

Albus gave her a pointed look. “Can we talk about this at home?”

“Are you going to tell me what happened? The truth, this time?”

“We never actually lied to you,” Albus defended. “Your dad and I just… didn’t correct you.”

Albus met Draco’s eyes and shook his head at Draco’s inquisitive expression.

Avery’s lower lip began to shake when Albus mentioned Scorpius. Her eyes darted around, searching. “Where is Daddy?”

“He had to go in for work,” Albus said. Avery’s shoulders slumped even more as Lexi and Adam broke free of Draco’s questions. Albus thought of what they’d said in Hogsmeade and realized what Scorpius’ absence must look like. “He had some things to deal with at work so he could take time off starting tomorrow. Besides, this gives us a chance to get the Christmas decorations up before he gets home.”

Sam’s face brightened at Adam’s side. “A surprise?”

Draco didn’t look so excited. Instead, he quirked a brow at Albus, looking quite appalled.

“You never procrastinate on Christmas. Why on earth did you put it off so long?” His tone was mocking — Draco knew very well that the house wasn’t ready for the holidays at all.

Albus gave him a droll stare. “I’ve been a bit busy, don’t you think?”

* * *

Adam, Sam and Will were busy sorting Christmas baubles while Lexi straightened the garland with Charlie and explained the significance behind some of the inherited tree decorations. Albus watched them laughing and joking, grateful that Lexi looked so alive and well, though he wished he could have thought the same of Avery, who was organizing Grandma Molly’s old light-up Christmas village atop the mantle.

Albus looked at Draco, who had decided to stay and help for a couple hours while Dania had Orion off visiting with her father in the suburbs of muggle London. He was idly sorting through the Malfoy-Potters’ collection of charmed fairy lights and held up a bundle of them when he saw that Albus was watching.

“They’ve still got a little glow from last year,” Draco said, turning it to show the soft light coming from the nodules on the silver string. “It’s excellent charm work.”

“That was Scorpius,” Albus said. “He’s always so good with those.”

“He is,” Draco said. The lines around his eyes and mouth grew deeper as he smiled at Albus, who couldn’t help grinning back. It was odd moments like this when he felt he understood Draco the most — when they both stopped and wholly appreciated how extraordinary the people they had in common were.

“I’m going to talk to Avery for a few minutes,” Albus said. “Can you make sure the twins don’t set the tree on fire?”

Albus glanced over at Sam and Will, who were happily taking Christmas ornaments from their wrapping and attacking the tree with them. Adam’s eye began to twitch in irritation as they thoroughly disregarded his organizational system, and Albus had to restrain himself from trying to fix the situation and trust that they could work it out on their own.

“Not making any promises,” Draco said. Albus decided that was good enough and limped over towards Avery. She was moving slowly as she arranged the small ceramic houses, and Albus could tell her head wasn’t really there and her heart wasn’t in it. His suspicions were confirmed when he placed a hand on her shoulder and she jumped, startled.

“It’s just me,” he assured her. “Would you come outside and help me feed the hippogriff?”

Avery’s eyes lit up a bit and she nodded. Relieved, Albus took her hand and together they walked toward the back door. He carefully leaned his cane against the door frame, resolved to make it across the field and into the barn without it.

“I’ll be fine,” Albus said in answer to Avery’s concerned expression. He cast a light warming charm over both of them and together they set off across the damp, dead grass toward the barn.

He’d hoped Avery would start talking and tell him what she knew, but she stayed quiet all the way across until finally, Albus was forced to break the silence after closing the barn door behind them.

“You seem tense.”

“I’m not tense,” Avery defended, though the way she had her arms wrapped around her middle told Albus otherwise. “I’m just confused.”

Albus limped past her into the wide aisle of the barn. After repairing the muggle structure, he and Aunt Hermione had spent an entire day magically expanding the inside and creating massive, padded stalls for Albus’ creatures. Lanterns burned year-round down the center, casting a warm, comforting glow on the stalls where various creatures were starting to poke their heads out (if they were tall enough) to see what was going on. In the quiet, Albus could hear the light shuffle of his mooncalf heard downstairs in the basement where they lived at all times, save for during the full moon.

“Talk to me, Avery,” Albus said, because he didn’t know what questions to ask. He limped towards one of the larger stalls at the center of the structure and clicked his tongue until Stormtail, a magnificent brown and white hippogriff with a malformed wing, came info view. He stamped his hooves on the stone floor of his stall, kicking the hay about until Albus got to him and he let out a great cry. At a decent distance, Albus bowed to him, wincing at the pain in his protesting hip as he did so.

“Why did you lie to me?”

“I never lied to you,” Albus said, standing as Stormtail bowed back to him. He’d been temperamental when he’d been brought in just before Albus fell ill, and Albus had worried that the hippogriff wouldn’t respond well to him when he returned. The first time he’d approached after coming home, Stormtail had taken five minutes to bow back to him. Now, it seemed, they were back on speaking terms.

“You’ve all always known that I have a bad leg,” Albus said. “And it’s never been too bad, really. One day someone mentioned my Quidditch accident. You put two and two together and decided that was how I got hurt. I just never corrected you.”

Albus opened Stormtail’s door and had a brief moment of pride when the hippogriff remained still and waited to be led out.

“That’s the same as lying,” Avery said as Albus seized the rope around Stormtail’s neck and lead him from the stall into the open area.

“I’d probably feel the same way in your shoes,” Albus admitted. He looked over his shoulder to see Avery disappearing into the feed stall where all the various types of food were stored. “But your Dad… well, it’s not like we ever kept it a secret. We just don’t talk about it too much. It was a long time ago.”

“I don’t understand,” Avery said, emerging with a bucket of fresh, dead ferrets that Giana had left earlier in the day.

“Can you tell me what you know?” Albus asked, fastening Stormtail’s lead to the hook around the thick, sturdy beam that met the center of the barn’s roof. Stormtail clicked his beak at Albus, impatient, as Albus backed away.

“Dad and I talked when you got sick. I realized I’d never really read the Malfoy or Potter family history because I’d always thought of myself as a Malfoy-Potter and that was something different,” Avery explained. Albus accepted the bucket of ferrets from her and motioned for her to sit on the nearby wooden bench. She settled in, folding her legs beneath her as she watched him start tossing the ferrets toward Stormtail, who made a great show of catching them. “We talked and I decided to go look in the library, but I couldn’t find anything. The librarian said that they didn’t keep the in-depth modern histories for students to read in general circulation. So I filled out an order form for Flourish and Blotts and had it put on Dad’s tab.”

Albus paused with the ferrets and looked up at the ceiling in resignation, wondering what it said about his family that they were the kind of people who kept an open tab at a bookstore.

“Anyway,” Avery continued, “I ordered a few books and didn’t think it would be a big deal until I found an entire chapter on the Malfoys and Potters.”

“Let me guess. It was Wizarding Families of the Twenty First Century: From Abbott to Potter to Yaxley, and Everyone In-Between?”

“It was the only one with Potter in the title.”

“Against your grandfather’s wishes,” Albus reminded her, tossing another ferret to Stormtail.

“So there was an entire chapter at the end — you know, after all the sections on each individual family — about the Malfoys and Potters following the Second Wizarding War.”

“Is there really?” Albus asked. “I’d been told we were in it, but I never sought it out myself. I wonder if Scorpius has a copy…”

“It said that you and Dad were involved in some hush-hush incident involving a time-turner in your fifth year.”

“Fourth,” Albus corrected, tossing a ferret to Stormtail’s extreme left. The body rolled and skidded on the floor and Stormtail had to walk over to retrieve it, clicking his beak in irritation as he went.

“So what happened?”

“Well… do you remember those bedtime stories about the Augury and the time-turner?”

“Oh my God,” Avery said, leaning forward. “Those were true?”

“Embellished,” Albus said. “Somewhat. And we left out the worst of it. But that’s… that’s got nothing to do with my leg.”

“Well, it said that in your seventh year, Aunt Ainsley’s mother and a few other people kidnapped Dad.”

Albus let the last ferrett leave his hand with very little grace, and Stormtail made a spectacular catch. He stared blankly as the hippogriff crunched on the bones, breaking them down and swallowing them quickly, leaving them in heavy silence for a moment as Albus remembered that December. It was cold then like it was now.

“That’s true.”

“It said that he was missing for two weeks —”

“Fifteen days,” Albus corrected.

“And there was a Ministry-wide effort to find him, but somehow Grandpa Harry, Grandpa Draco and you managed to get to him one night.”

“Yeah.”

Albus’ voice sounded distant, even to himself. He limped towards Avery and she quickly shifted to make room for him beside her. Albus fell clumsily into the space next to her and stretched his sore leg out in front of him.

“It said that you were injured and that Dad was pretty messed up. There was a photo from St. Mungo’s.”

Albus couldn’t help sneering a bit. He knew the photo she was talking about. There was a copy buried in a truck tucked away in the basement closet. He hadn’t seen it for years, but he could picture it perfectly - Harry had his arm around Albus’ waist, practically carrying him, while Draco tried to shield Scorpius from the photographers. Unfortunately, at the moment the photo was taken, Scorpius had reached up to try and grab Albus’ hand as they were swarmed, exposing both his bruised and gaunt face and the ring of raw flesh around his wrist. The movement was immortalized in a loop of moving black and white, and Albus’ limp was terribly obvious as he leaned into Harry, loosing his balance over and over again in the photo while Scorpius tried and failed to reach him.

“We were both hurt,” Albus told her.

“I tried to read more, but…” Avery’s voice faded and she looked down at her hands, looping and unlooping a hair tie around her fingers nervously. “But I got to the word ‘torture’ and I just couldn’t. Because you and Dad always told me that sometimes books and newspapers got things wrong, and…”

“And you wanted to know what happened.”

“The scars on Dad’s wrists… that’s where they came from? He always just says he’ll tell us someday.”

“I think he didn’t want you lot to look at him differently. Or Aunt Ainsley.”

“She looks like her mum,” Avery noted. Albus hummed in agreement.

“She does. But she also looks like Astoria.”

Avery looked up at mention of her hallowed grandmother. Scorpius and Draco spoke of her often and in such glowing terms that he wondered if the children regarded her as more of a saint.

“How did you get hurt?”

Albus leaned back and let out a long, slow breath. “Okay, but you have to promise you won’t freak out.”

* * *

Avery did indeed freak out. Albus had to begin by explaining Scorpius’ penchant for wandless magic that was a side effect of his mother’s blood curse having been cast by one of his father’s ancestors, and Avery took hearing that her beloved dad nearly died at twenty about as well as Albus had taken to nearly losing his fiance.

Then, he’d had to tell her that Ainsley, her favorite aunt, had been with Scorpius in Hogsmeade when he’d been taken on Ainsley’s mother’s orders by two henchmen and her Grandfather Draco’s ex-girlfriend, which created a confusing web of interconnectivity that made Albus nauseated just considering it.

“But what about the scars?” she’d asked. And Albus gave her the brief version of what had happened to Scorpius in the fifteen days he was missing, because she could find all of this information in public court documents anyway, and Avery stood up to pace in front of him.

“So… you found him?” Avery said when Albus told her about how he’d figured out where Scorpius was. He nodded, and she’d seemed impressed. Albus tried to muster some kind of pride for his seventeen-year-old self, but couldn’t find it. Instead, he just took a deep breath and tried to connect to that younger version of himself and revel in the fact that he was talking to one of his six Malfoy-Potter kids, and that everything had turned out okay.

“We did, and I insisted I go with my dad and Draco to go find him. While Draco was searching the house for Scorpius, your Grandpa Harry and I dueled Daphne and I was hit in the leg. Right here,” Albus said, pointing to a spot just below his hip.

“Fucking hell,” Avery whispered. Albus didn’t even bother scolding her for swearing, because he agreed. “So you… you and Grandpa and Grandfather almost died saving Dad?”

“Well, I guess so…”

“And Dad. He was… was he okay?”

“He recovered better than anyone could have expected,” Albus said with a sad smile. “Because he’s Scorpius. He can bounce back from anything.”

“So… but Dad’s okay now, right? He doesn’t have a blood curse anymore?”

“No,” Albus assured her, his voice firm. “If your Dad wasn’t so stressed he’d be in perfect health.”

“How many of our bedtime stories were true?”

“Well.. the Augury ones were somewhat true,” Albus said. “But that’s a conversation we need to have with your grandfathers and Dad around, because they love telling me what an idiot I was to this day.”

“Idiot?”

“The part about the evil witch and the time-turner? That’s true. But I kind of had a crush on her and almost got your dad killed because of it. It wasn’t funny at the time but now they like to remind me what a stupid fourth year I was.”

“Oh.”

“And your Uncle Charlie was indeed a daredevil dragon tamer in his younger years — especially before he married Sebastian. Most of those bedtime stories have some basis in fact.”

“Merlin,” Avery breathed. “What about the time Grandpa Harry fought the Dementors playing Quidditch?”

“True, but he usually leaves off the part where he fell off his broom.”

“Like you?”

“Nah, his story is better. I just got hit by a bludger. He had a much better reason to wind up in the hospital wing.”

“Did you hex a chimaera?”

“No,” Albus said. Avery sighed in relief. “I think I tried to stun it to help Uncle Charlie get away.”

“Oh my God.”

“What?” Albus said, indignant and grinning. Avery looked far less stressed now, and he was terribly relieved that she wasn’t cross with him, especially before Christmas. “I needed a chimaera egg for the potion that removed the blood curse.”

Avery sat down beside him again, neglecting the extra space and pressing herself against Albus’ side. He was certain the warming charm was wearing off, but if it meant he got an extra hug from his daughter, Albus could wait a few minutes before re-casting it. “Are you always saving Dad’s life?”

“Probably,” Albus nodded with mock arrogance. “He’d forget to eat if I didn’t make him. He’s very lucky to have me.”

Finally, Avery laughed, leaning into his side and resting her head on his shoulder. Albus wasted no time in wrapping his arm around her shoulders and kissing the top of her head twice.

“Your dad’s saved me more times than I can count,” Albus said softly. “But in a lot of different ways. I’m far more lucky to have him.”

“I think we’re all lucky to have you both,” Avery said. She wrapped her arms around his middle, hugging him tight.

“I’m sorry you felt like we lied to you.”

“It’s okay,” Avery conceded. “I know why you did now. But… you’ll have to tell everyone eventually. It’s all out there. I’m surprised to took so long for one of us to find it.”

“I know,” Albus said, gently patting her hair. The idea of talking about such distant but painful memories had Albus feeling quite exhausted already. He thought of Scorpius, who wasn’t yet himself after taking care of Lexi and Albus. No, Scorpius wouldn’t be ready for that conversation just yet, and while Albus knew Scorpius would understand why he’d had to talk to Avery, he also knew Scorpius wouldn’t want him facing those questions alone. “Just… after Christmas, okay?”

“Okay,” Avery agreed. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Just tell them you were upset about a boy at school if they ask what was wrong,” Albus suggested.

“Well, actually… there is a boy at school…”

Albus’ hand froze atop Avery’s head. He’d thought discussing all these old events was bad but this… this was his worst nightmare.

“A boy?”

“I’d told Grandma Dania about him a while ago but now I think he likes me back.”

Albus groaned and leaned back, resting his head against the wall, preparing himself to be traumatized.

* * *

Scorpius dragged himself into the house, shivering and tired. The day had been made longer by knowing his family was all together under one roof, and though the meetings were an unfortunate necessity to free him up for the holidays, he resented every minute of them for multiple reasons.

Those reasons all fell away as soon as he walked inside, too distracted to notice the quiet, and stumbled upon a quite unexpected sight.

The living room was illuminated by the Christmas candles set on all the end tables and the mantle. They glowed with a bright blue halo, which told Scorpius they’d been charmed to keep burning for a few days, and that they weren’t a hazard. By the large window that overlooked the hills and the property beside the house was a massive Christmas tree that stretched toward the high ceiling, decorated perfectly with all the sentimental ornaments Scorpius loved mixed in with shiny new ones that glittered as the enchanted fairy lights twinkled between the branches. Garland hung from the windows and mantles, draped from edge to edge, and Grandma Molly’s Christmas village was laid out across the mantle looking perfect as ever with its chipped corners and the dancing warlock gilding across the glass ice rink.

Everything was clean and orderly beneath the decorations except for a mess in the center of the room. Atop the sofa bed lay Albus, stretched out with all six children and Ridgebit sleeping on him as much as possible. Avery was tucked under one of his arms with her head on his shoulder, and Charlie had wedged herself between Albus’ side and Avery’s stomach and had her head resting just beneath his ribs. Lexi had dominated Albus’ other side and had cuddled up to him, but she was small enough that Adam had room to lay behind her, and Scorpius spotted his hand wrapped tightly around Albus’. Above his head lay Sam, who was curled up above everyone else with his head resting on Ridgebit’s side, and draped across Albus’ legs was Will.

Scorpius stood frozen for a long moment, looking at his family sleeping soundly. It was an image so peaceful and perfect that he wished he had a pensieve where he could store the memory forever, and yet it made something tighten in his chest. He looked at all eight of their faces — the dog included — and wondered if they were all so wonderful not in any part because of him, but despite his failures as a husband and father. His breath caught in his throat as Sam, dead asleep and oblivious to everything, shifted and momentarily gripped Ridgebit’s paw, and Scorpius wondered if each of his children’s virtues had nothing to do with him.

He lay his robes across the back of the nearby armchair, his eyes never leaving the tangled mass of arms, legs, and serene faces in front of him. He was just wondering if he could sit in the chair and watch them — really take his time to memorize the scene — when a light clatter of wood rang out through the room.

He jumped and looked down as his wand rolled across the hardwood floor to a stop near his foot. It had fallen from the pocket of his robes, and he stood still, hoping no one else heard the noise. He didn’t want to be responsible for ruining the most peaceful sleep any of them had experienced in weeks — months, maybe.

He wasn’t that lucky. Seconds later the grandfather clock in the corner chimed, announcing that it was half past eight o’clock. At the combined disturbance, Albus’ eyelids twitched and he opened them, looking around without moving. He smiled down at the children, confused about what had woken him but happy to be there, until he spotted Scorpius standing awkwardly nearby.

“Hey,” he whispered, barely audible.

“Hey. Go back to sleep,” Scorpius responded. Sam shifted in his sleep and buried his face even deeper in Ridgebit’s fur.

Albus shook his head and carefully unwound his right arm from around Lexi and Adam, who grumbled as Albus extracted his hand.

“No, just stay there,” Scorpius begged. The last thing he wanted was for the silence to be broken when everything seemed so very perfect.

“I need to let the mooncalves out,” Albus muttered. He carefully moved his arm from around Avery and Charlie and managed to sit up, jostling Sam as he did so. Fortunately, Sam was a heavy sleeper, and he just cuddled back into Ridgebit’s side with a tiny whimper.

But then there was Will, who was curled around one of Albus’ calves, and who had folded his arms atop his shins and laid his head there. Scorpius thought he must have been terribly tired to have fallen asleep in such an uncomfortable position, but knowing Will, he’d probably run himself ragged trying to help with decorating everything. He caught Albus’ fond look as he looked down at Will and knew he must be right.

“Let me help,” Scorpius whispered. He crossed the short distance to the sofa and leaned over them, smelling sugar cookies and hot chocolate. As he wrapped his arms around Will and carefully lifted him up, Scorpius hoped Albus had saved his dinner since they must have eaten early. Will whimpered as Scorpius picked him up — both he and Sam were wiry and light — and wrapped his arms around Scorpius’ neck.

“Dad?”

“Hey, mate. Did you have a good day?”

Will nodded sleepily into his shoulder as Albus scooted towards the foot of the mattress and struggled to his feet.

“Were you enjoying your nap?”

Will nodded again. Scorpius looked down and saw that his eyes were closed again already and he couldn’t help smiling. He wondered how many moments he had left like this with Will. He, Sam and Charlie were all growing up so fast, and soon they’d be off at Hogwarts, learning to be their own people. Scorpius wrapped his arms around Will a little tighter and kissed his temple.

“Go back to sleep,” he instructed. “We’ll wake you up in a little bit, okay?”

Will nodded again, this time with a yawn, and Scorpius reluctantly leaned back over and placed Will in the spot Albus had vacated. Will wasted no time in cuddling up next to Lexi.

“Look at them,” Scorpius whispered as Albus moved to his side. “They’re so… tactile. All of them.”

“You’d think they’re touch-starved,” Albus agreed. Scorpius didn’t know what to make of the wistful, somewhat-sad smile on his husband’s face. Maybe Albus had some regrets, but surely moments like this weren’t any of them.

“They wanted to surprise you,” Albus continued. “With the decorations. They did most of it — Draco and I just levitated ornaments and garland from the armchairs.”

Albus pointed to the pair of armchairs that flanked the fireplace. Next to each sat an empty glass, and Scorpius suspected some more of the Cadmus Cognac was gone.

“It sounds like you all had a good day,” Scorpius said with the utmost reluctance. He hated that he’d missed bringing Avery, Adam and Lexi home, but there had been no alternative.

“We did,” Albus said. He cleared his throat, sounding very much like he was avoiding something, and watched as Lexi wrapped her arm around her little brother. Albus sighed and grabbed Scorpius’ arm for a moment before stepping around him towards the kitchen. “I’m going to run out to the barn for a little bit. I won’t be too long.”

Scorpius wanted to ask him if he was okay and tried to find the words. Clearly he was fine — he looked nearly like himself again and his movements were freer and more comfortable today. The kids seemed happy to be home and happy to be with their Papa again, and Albus hadn’t had any major work crises in the last few days. Clearly he was okay, but was he okay…?

By the time Scorpius got close to finding the words, he was listening to the back door close, sealing the house in silence save for Ridgebit’s light snoring and Charlie’s quiet muttering in her sleep.

* * *

A young crup was nestled into the crook of Albus’ arm as he tossed dead mice to Stormtail as a late night snack. The mooncalves were already out in the field, grazing and playing in the moonlight, their soft chattering noises barely audible from inside the barn. The crup, who had been found orphaned outside the Hogwarts grounds a week ago, had been cared for by Giana, but had taken to Albus immediately.

“There you go,” Albus said as the crup gave a great yawn, having greedily drunk a large bottle of milk. Albus wrapped the blanket around the canine-like creature, willing him to fall asleep so he could settle him in the stall and get inside, and wrapped the blanket around his own shoulders tighter to insulate both himself and the crup. “That’s it. Just go back to sleep.”

Stormtail gave an impatient click of his beak from a few feet away where he was tethered to the beam again. Albus glared at him.

“Don’t be too eager,” Albus said, tossing another mouse. “I’m almost out of mice anyway.”

Albus tossed a few more, letting the crup doze in his arm, trying very hard to keep his balance even to get his body reacclimated to normal movement. It was a challenge, trying to work and remain conscious of his every move, but it was something he knew he would have to do for a few days until the tension down his leg eased.

When he heard the door of the barn creak open, Albus turned around. Scorpius entered, having pulled on an old zipper sweatshirt over his work clothes, holding a thermos in his hand. The clash of casual Home Scorpius and polished, formal Work Scorpius made Albus smile — even more so than he normally would at the arrival of his husband.

“I thought… maybe you needed tea.”

“I always need tea,” Albus responded. Scorpius crossed the long aisle, removing the cap and then handing the thermos to Albus at arm’s length. Albus took it, laughing.

“Crups don’t bite wizards,” Albus said. “And this one is just a pup. He doesn’t seem to have a malicious bone in his body.”

“It’s not that,” Scorpius muttered, turning away and leaning in to look into the pen holding baby Occamys. Albus took a long drink of the tea and was pleased to find it was fixed just the way he liked it — no sugar and entirely too much milk. The contrast between the comfortable, sleeping creature in his arms and the uneasy way his husband was moving wasn’t just noticeable. It practically screamed at him.

The tautness of Scorpius’ shoulders beneath the sweater, the tiredness in his eyes made all the more pronounced by the dark circles growing beneath them… they were worse than they’d been the last few days. Albus had been very much aware that Scorpius was stressed and tired and had tried not to burden him, but now he was faced with Scorpius looking anxious beyond what Albus would have expected, and he quietly tried to evaluate what Scorpius needed.

“What’s bothering you?” Scorpius froze, his attention no longer on the sleeping trio of Occamys.

“How long will the Occamys be here?” Scorpius asked after a pause too long for Albus to believe Scorpius hadn’t heard him.

“Two days. Until Christmas Eve. Breeder was on holiday,” Albus reminded him. “Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not changing the subject,” Scorpius defended. “There’s nothing wrong.”

Stormtail tapped his beak several times, stamping his feet in a fit of irritation upon realizing that Albus wasn’t going to return to throwing snacks at him. Albus nodded over his shoulder at the hippogriff.

“Even Stormtail knows you’re lying.”

“Yes, well Stormtail should mind his own business, shouldn’t he?”

“Did you have a bad day?” Albus pressed, stepping back over to the smallest of the stalls. He listened to Scorpius’ sigh as he nudged the door open and set the tea on the ledge. He didn’t need to see Scorpius to know he’d put his face in his hands — a momentary distraction before finally talking.

“I… I’m worried.”

“About what?” Albus asked, bending down to lay the crup in the bed of hay and blankets he’d prepared. It was disturbed momentarily and opened its dark eyes, unhappy at the turn of events. Albus scratched behind his ears for a moment despite the mounting tension down his leg at the position.

“Well… you, I guess.”

“What about me?” Albus all but laughed. “I’ve got a clean bill of health, just like Lexi.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Well, what are you talking about?”

“I just… I want you to be happy, you know? And I don’t think you have been,” Scorpius said. Albus stood up, abandoning the crup as it curled around the tiny stuffed niffler toy Albus had provided, and looked over the stall door to Scorpius, who was shuffling around in the center of the barn, kicking the stray pieces of hay littering the stone floor.

“Pardon?”

“The kids were upset with us, remember? Our schedules have been demanding and life changed quite a bit when we adopted Charlie.”

“Well, it was a bloody rough year,” Albus reminded him. “With Charlie and both of us suddenly having more work than usual.”

“Right,” Scorpius agreed. “And the kids are fine, I think. But you… said something while you were ill.”

Albus had a feeling they’d finally gotten to what was really troubling him and had the sudden sensation like he’d missed a step going down the stairs.

“Whatever I did, I’m very sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize,” Scorpius said, waving his hand dismissively before reverting immediately to picking at the sleeves of his jacket. Seconds later, his fingers moved to the zipper, pulling it up and down three times before he went back to the sleeves. He was watching his fingers, defiantly avoiding looking anywhere except Albus. “I think it’s me who owes you an apology.”

“I can’t imagine what for.” Albus glanced back at the crup and saw that it was still watching him, idle but observant. He knew it would whine if he stepped out now, so he settled for leaning over the stall door to watch Scorpius, his concern mounting. He’d said and done some stupid things while in perfect health, so he could only imagine what he could have said while sick.

“Between the kids thinking there was something wrong between us and then you muttering something about not wanting to die with any regrets — and you had feverishly convinced yourself that you were dying; it was very intense — I’ve started to wonder if something really is wrong and I’m just too distracted to see it.”

“I said that?” Albus asked, terribly confused. There were parts of the ordeal he didn’t remember at all, but he had assumed it was because he’d been asleep. “Merlin. Maybe I am as dramatic as James accuses me of being.”

“You did, and you have every reason to,” Scorpius said. “Not that you’d need a justification! You never have to justify how you feel. Not with things like this. I want you to be happy, so I’ve been spending the last week just thinking and thinking and trying to figure out what could be making you unhappy,” Scorpius ranted, pacing back and forth. He looked from the barn ceiling to the floor and kicked more of the hay as he talked, leaving Albus dumbfounded, watching open-mouthed.

“There’s a lot you could regret. I mean, I did feel like I pressured you on this house,” Scorpius said. He continued to fidget with his sleeves and Albus tried to remember what he could have been muttering about when he was ill while trying to figure out what to do now. “You were afraid it was too small but I insisted we could manage it, and look — now we’re out of rooms again.”

“Scorp —”

“Maybe it’s that we haven’t been on a holiday for years. Not a real one. Or that you wind up doing more for the kids and around the house than I do because that isn’t fair. We barely ever have any time to ourselves. And we deviated from our original plans for a family —”

“I do not regret adopting Charlie,” Albus said firmly, but he could tell Scorpius barely heard him.

“And then I started thinking about the bigger things. That maybe… well, we did get married very young, Albus. Maybe now that you’re not happy with the way our lives have turned out and —”

“Stop.”

Scorpius fell silent mid-sentence, his mouth open and gaping like a fish out of water. He stared at Albus as if he’d been scolded, his shoulders collapsing even more. Maybe it had been too easy to forget with everything going on that he and Scorpius were humans too and that the changes happening around them might be taking a toll they couldn’t see in one another. Albus knew better than to think an off-handed, feverish comment had started this. Maybe Scorpius was already starting to wonder if Albus was unhappy, or if he himself was unsatisfied.

Albus pushed the stall door open and stepped back out into the wide aisle. Despite the long-term warming charms he placed in the fall, the center of the room always felt a little drafty, and he wrapped his arms around his middle, protecting himself. He might have been feeling better, but the patches of skin affected by the pox were still terribly sensitive to temperature and touch, and he needed to focus.

“What am I meant to be regretting?” Albus asked, trying to keep his voice soft and even. “My six perfect kids? The husband that I love? The career I’ve been building since I was eighteen?” He gestured around the barn as Stormtail folded his legs and lay down behind him with a theatrical huff, displeased with being ignored. Albus didn’t even spare a glance back at him, still approaching Scorpius who, up close, looked about as bad as Albus had felt a few days prior.

“I don’t know,” Scorpius muttered, looking down at his feet, nudging a piece of straw from the top of his slightly-scuffed Oxfords.

“Do you know what I was fixated on while I was stuck in there?” Albus asked. Scorpius shook his head. “Christmas. All I’d wanted was a normal Christmas for us and for the kids and I was so mad at myself for not having planned ahead, or having a single idea for what to get you.”

Only then did Scorpius finally look up at Albus from beneath his messy blonde hair. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Albus said. “Christmas is our thing and we’ve underdone it these last few years, don’t you think?”

“If you consider putting ten thousand fairy lights on the house instead of twenty thousand to be ‘underdone,’ then yes, I suppose we’ve been slacking,” Scorpius deadpanned.

“I really hadn’t wanted to get behind on Christmas, and with all the potions in my system and the fever, that’s what I was thinking about. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, actually,” Albus explained, somewhat embarrassed. Scorpius looked up a tiny bit, and Albus caught his furtive expression. “You were really concerned, weren’t you?”

Scorpius only gave him a nod and wrapped his arms around his middle. It had been ages since Albus had seen him like this — full of anxious energy but too exhausted to use it, so he’d just stayed still and let his worries eat him from the inside while Albus, still trying to readjust to being back home, remained oblivious to his husband’s struggles. He fought back the guilt that crept up his throat and threatened to take over as he took in Scorpius’ tired, uncertain demeanor. What else had he missed?

Albus rubbed the sensitive patch of skin on his neck, feeling worse and worse by the second. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were so worried about… well, anything. I’ve been a bit —”

“You almost died,” Scorpius interrupted. “You get a free pass, don’t you think?”

“Not really.”

Scorpius let out a slow breath and looked up at the rafters where a few owls were perched, seeking shelter from the cold outside. “You almost died,” he repeated, sounding more like he was talking to himself than anyone else. “And then I thought you were unhappy and you were so sick. All I kept thinking was that if you died before I could do anything to make it up to you, I’d never be able to live with myself. And then I realized this must have been close to what you felt like when I was ill ages ago, and I don’t think I gave you enough credit then.”

“Bit different now,” Albus said, looking up too as a magnificent barn owl swooped in through the opening in the ceiling. “We didn’t have six kids and a life together.”

“I just started to wonder if all this was what you wanted,” Scorpius said. “Silly, I guess.”

“Not silly.” Albus shook his head and looked at him. Scorpius was watching him closely, hands playing nervously at the seams of his jumper. “Things have been difficult lately but I wouldn’t change anything at all.”

“Not the house?” Scorpius asked, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smile that finally let Albus relax.

“I love the house. And we are going to build that library after the first of the year. I promise.”

“Not the job? You hadn’t originally set out on the rehab clinic.”

“Animals are better than most people. I’m fine staying here with them. Kind of want to cut back on the location assignments, though.”

“What about the kids?”

“We could adopt another one. Seven is a lucky number,” Albus said, grinning. “We could have a Quidditch team.”

The mock horror in Scorpius’ eyes nearly had him laughing.

“Can you imagine seven?” Albus asked. “Merlin, we barely have time together as it is.”

“That’s actually what I was taking care of today,” Scorpius said, biting his lip with uncertainty again. He kicked at some of the hay on the ground, avoiding eye contact in a way that immediately made Albus nervous. “I had James solicit some candidates and the office lined up interviews, but they were mistakenly scheduled for today.”

“Interviews?”

“I promoted James with the Minister’s blessing,” Scorpius explained. “Well, I had to create the position, actually. But to take the pressure off of both of us, we decided to hire another associate director and project manager, and we made arrangements to scale back the department’s schedule. I had to take a pay cut and it’s going to mean pulling from my inheritance for a while.”

Albus was certain Scorpius had never scaled back anything at work, and he’d certainly never wanted to rely on the fabled Malfoy money. Both he and Albus had always made enough — enough to make sure the kids never wanted for anything and to live a life that was more than comfortable, because they would accept no less for their family. They’d made the decision so long ago that this was a change of heart Albus hadn’t even considered.

On top of that, Scorpius had always taken his job very seriously. From day one it had been his mission to acquire as much research and as many texts as possible from around the world to consolidate wizarding knowledge. He’d done so at an alarming rate, and the new Minister didn’t take well to the scaling back of anything — not when the Ministry was constantly being compared to MACUSA.

“I couldn’t care less about the money,” Albus said, resolute. “I don’t think I realized how much stress you were under to have done something this drastic.”

“It’s okay,” Scorpius said quickly. “You’ve had so much happening over the last year and you’ve been doing so well.”

Behind him, one of the Occamys gave a sleepy cry as if it agreed, and Albus thought maybe it did. It seemed the creatures often understood more than he expected, and they surprised him every day.

“You split the responsibility and reduced productivity?”

“It’s not worth never spending time with you.” Scorpius shook his head, earnest. “It’s not worth skipping vacations or having my younger staff consider transferring when they start families because our schedules are so hectic. We’ve done a lot and most of that is because you — and Ainsley, on James’ side — have been so wonderful and flexible. I’ve gotten the healers a considerable amount of information and I’ve seen rooms full of dangerous artifacts confiscated. We have an entire database on blood curses… and we’ve done a lot of good. But it’s not worth waking up before you and coming home after dinner. It’s not worth being gone a fifth of the year and missing time with my family… maybe I was so convinced you were miserable because I was starting to second guess myself.”

“So… you’re going to be home more?”

“More than a standard Ministry job, yes,” Scorpius said, biting his lip. “Is that okay?”

Albus beamed at him, suddenly extraordinarily content. As long as Scorpius had been happy and as devoted to his family as he was to work, Albus was on board with whatever he wanted, but the prospect of spending more time with his husband — having long evening game nights with their kids, impromptu visits to Hogsmeade, assembling care packages for their kids at Hogwarts when they couldn’t sleep — had his heart beating faster and the world seeming brighter.

“Is that okay? Are you serious?” Albus asked, indignant. “I’d already cancelled my field assignments for the next six months to spend more time here because I missed you and the kids. I did it before you came home and before I got sick after I saw the kids in Hogsmeade.”

“You didn’t tell me that.”

“I kind of forgot with everything that’s been going on,” Albus confessed, suddenly unsure that it had been the right decision. He’d felt so scattered since getting sick that talking it over hadn’t been a priority, especially with Christmas looming.

“It’s okay,” Scorpius said quickly. “Really. I just didn’t know if you’d be okay with this decision. I normally talk everything over with you first —“

Scorpius was cut off. He jumped at the loud, mournful, emotional cry from behind Albus, who turned around, startled, to see Stormtail watching them closely as he tucked his wings in and rolled onto his side, staring Albus down. Albus glared at him, now very much aware of the growing, dull ache in his hip and knee. He shifted from side to side, wondering how much longer he’d be able to stand unassisted.

“Bloody drama queen,” Albus muttered. “Can’t stand it if everything isn’t about him.”

Albus shook his head at Stormtail, who seemed satisfied at having interrupted them. He looked back to Scorpius, who had shoved his hands into his pockets, shuffling his feet awkwardly and looking more like the sixteen year-old boy Albus had fallen in love with over library tables and late-night talks while bingeing jelly slugs than a leader in the Ministry of Magic and strong candidate for Father of the Year. It reminded him of the times he’d calmed Scorpius down before tests and held his hand under Great Hall tables when he was anxious, and Albus wondered if maybe he’d gotten caught up in all the turns their lives had taken too and hadn’t reminded Scorpius exactly how much he was loved.

“Albus?” Scorpius asked after a moment, and Albus realized he’d been staring at him for far too long, probably with a lovesick smile Scorpius hadn’t seen for a while.

“Sorry,” Albus said, taking a slow, stiff step towards him. “Sometimes I just forget how lucky we are.”

At that, Scorpius’ eyes softened beneath his glasses and his worry lines eased. He smiled — not an ecstatic grin or the broad, joyous look he sometimes put on for the children when he was both genuinely happy to be with them but entirely too tired to appreciate everything fully. Instead, this was the soft smile that told Albus that Scorpius wasn’t just happy; he was at peace.

All at once, Albus found himself wrapped up in a tight embrace. He leaned into Scorpius’ chest, clutching at the back of his shirt as if that could somehow bring them closer. The faint smell of old books and pumpkin juice had Albus grinning into his husband’s neck.

“Having you home more will be perfect,” Albus said. “I know what you do is important, and I haven’t wanted to be selfish.”

“Be selfish,” Scorpius muttered. “Please, be selfish.”

It was easy to ignore the cold as he buried his face in Scorpius’ jumper, and Scorpius was steady as Albus settled against him, taking the pressure from his sore leg. With most of the creatures sleeping or enjoying post-meal lethargy, the barn was quiet and calm in a way it rarely was.

“Avery knows,” Albus all but whispered. “About how I got hurt.”

“I know she does,” Scorpius said. Surprised, Albus leaned back and looked up at him. Instead of looking tense, Scorpius looked sad, but not unhappy. “I had a half-hour break today and I went to Flourish and Blotts to pay off our book-bill and I saw the title on the list. She didn’t even lie and sign the order form with my name. The shopkeeper just knows us all well enough and assumed it was okay and sent the book.”

“You’re not cross with her?” Albus asked. “Because she was so upset when she got off the train.”

“Nah, I’m not cross. I can’t be, can I? I always taught her to look things up if she was ever curious, and she did exactly what we told her to. I’ve always been dubious about Lexi’s sorting but Avery… Avery is a hundred percent Ravenclaw.”

“She cried a bit,” Albus explained. “I talked to her alone. It’s all public record and she’d be able to request Ministry records soon enough if she was really interested in research —”

“Which she is. About everything.”

“Right. She really loves you, you know,” Albus said. Scorpius ran his hand back through Albus’ unruly hair, not even trying to smooth it into something reasonable, but instead just playing with it. “She was pretty horrified, even though she obviously knows how the story ends.”

“Has she convinced herself you’re a hero?”

“I think so.”

“Good,” Scorpius said, grinning. He leaned down and kissed Albus soundly, his arm tightening around Albus’ middle and his hand grazing the sensitive, healing skin on Albus’ neck. The cold air had been somewhat painful earlier, but never in all their time together had a single touch from Scorpius caused Albus pain. Instead of shock and irritation, Albus felt a pleasant, comforting tingling and leaned into it, smiling against his husband’s lips until Scorpius pulled back only enough to look at him.

“I think you’re a hero too.”

“‘M pretty sure you’re the one who carried me half-dead to St. Mungo’s,” Albus said, grinning. “My leg is sore now. Can you carry me back to the house?”

“I don’t think it works like that,” Scorpius laughed. “It was a one-time thing.”

“That’s disappointing.” Albus smirked up at him. “Was the sponge bath a one-time thing?”

“Well, maybe not,” Scorpius said, yielding as Albus tugged him back down for another kiss and meeting him with equal enthusiasm, and Albus would have thought the moment perfect if it hadn’t been for Scorpius’ glasses. He was just about to step back and remove them when Scorpius pulled back and glanced at the barn doors.

“D’you think we could sneak past the kids and get upstairs?”

“Not a chance,” Albus said. “They’re hungry. Wanted to wait for you to have dinner. They’ll wake as soon as we walk in — especially Avery and Adam. They’re really happy about you staying home over the holiday.”

“Really?” Scorpius said, obviously touched but somewhat disappointed.

Albus leaned into Scorpius’ chest, grinning. For a long time he stood there, unwilling to move and entirely at ease, until it was time to put Stormtail back in his stall. With the utmost reluctance, he let go of his husband and led the hippogriff back to his place and closed him in for the night.

“The mooncalves look happy,” Scorpius commented. “I saw them when I was walking out here.”

“They love the snow, it seems.” Albus grabbed his thermos of tea and limped back towards the barn doors, slipping under Scorpius’ arm when he got close enough. “Giana took great care of them when I was sick.”

Scorpius slid his arm down around Albus’ waist, supporting him as they walked. It didn’t seem to phase him. Albus wondered if the sensation of him leaning into Scorpius’ side brought back bad memories. He hoped it didn’t, because now it just reminded Albus of late nights spent comforting one another under warming and silencing charms and the days when they spent more time than not joined at the hip. Albus didn’t think those memories could ever be soured, despite their origin, and the prospect of having more time together had Albus feeling incredibly grateful that it was Christmas.

He carried that warm feeling inside and smiled as Adam and Lexi jumped up to hug their Dad. Avery waited until the others had become distracted by greeting Orion (who’d just stumbled from the fireplace) and setting the table for dinner and she walked deftly into Scorpius’ arms. Albus watched from the arm of the sofa as Scorpius held her, letting her cling to him as the noise migrated towards the kitchen where Orion was excitedly informing anyone who would listen that Harriet Lupin hadn’t glared at him when he’d wished her a Happy Christmas.

“I’m okay,” Albus heard Scorpius mutter to Avery, and for a moment he felt like he was intruding on a terribly private moment, but he found he couldn’t look away from the tender way Scorpius held her with one hand on the back of her head and the other around her shoulders. It reminded him of the way Scorpius had held her in the first weeks after she was born — like she was the most important person in the world for him to protect.

“What I read was awful.”

“It was a long time ago,” Scorpius assured her, bending to kiss the side of her head. Avery gripped him tighter. “It was a very long time ago, and everything worked out just fine. Are you very cross with us?”

Avery shook her head, but kept her face buried just over Scorpius’ heart and Albus mused that the sight of them together like this might have moved him to tears if he weren’t half-distracted by a crashing sound from the kitchen. He winced, certain that Orion had knocked over the stack of clean pans on the counter.

“I’m sorry we sheltered you so much,” Scorpius said. “That wasn’t fair. I was just afraid that if you knew all the details, you might… well, you might wish you hadn’t been a Malfoy or a Potter, and certainly not both.”

Albus spoke up from the side. “We know all about problematic names.”

Avery glared at Albus for a moment before scowling up at Scorpius, her eyes narrow. “How could you think that?”

“You asked me once why some of your classmates seemed to dislike you for no reason,” Scorpius said.

“You said it was because the Malfoys and Potters were famous and some people didn’t like us because of what old family members had done in the past.”

“I didn’t want you to resent your family names.”

“I don’t resent anything,” Avery said, turning her face back against Scorpius’ shoulder. He held her tighter and kissed the top of her head, and Albus wondered if he was ever going to let her go. “I have some questions.”

“I imagine you do,” Scorpius said, glancing at Albus.

“After Christmas,” Albus added. “We’ll all sit down and talk about it.”

“Okay,” Avery muttered. “But I wouldn’t change anything. I wouldn’t want to be a part of any other family.”

At Avery’s words, Scorpius sighed with a small smile, visibly relieved as he held their daughter. Albus resolved to make sure this was the most relaxing Christmas Scorpius had ever experienced, and intended to start that very evening with a long, hot bath to ensure he had no more worries before going to sleep.

“I’m so glad to hear you say that.”

“I missed you,” Avery said, stepping back. She used the cuff of her sleeve to wipe her face and sniffed, trying to gather herself. Scorpius smiled down at her.

“I missed you too,” he said. “Now cheer up. We’re going to have dinner and then we’re going to get up early tomorrow and do some Christmas shopping.”

“You’re sure you’re not working?”

“Positive. And I’ve made sure I’ll be home much, much more in the future. No more summers like the last one. And we’ll take a proper holiday this summer. Some place fun.”

“With museums?”

Scorpius paused, wrinkling his nose. “Okay, we’ll leave the others at the beach and go to a museum. I promise.”

Avery grinned, seemingly pleased with this resolution until a shriek from the kitchen, quickly followed by laughter, made her jump.

“Avery!” Adam yelled. “Please come stop Orion from destroying Papa’s kitchen!”

Avery shook her head and stalked off toward the kitchen and Albus seized the opportunity to ruffle her hair as she walked by. Scorpius grinned after her, listening as the younger kids tried to work out how to heat up the pot of beef stew and bread Albus had prepared.

“Are they going to blow up the kitchen?” Scorpius asked, listening to Lexi explain why the stew had to be heated slowly on the stove.

“Magic for heating food is unpredictable when it’s not a small amount of food,” Lexi said. “That’s what Papa always says, and we don’t want to burn dinner.”

Albus heard the soft ‘oh’ of understanding from Charlie.

“I think they’ll be fine,” Albus said, holding his hand out for Scorpius. When he took it, Albus let himself fall down onto the sofa and pulled Scorpius down. He fell half on Albus’ lap and half onto the cushion with a quiet groan that was nearly drowned out by a brief argument from the children over which spoon should be used to stir the stew.

Scorpius settled at Albus’ side and Albus scrambled to wrap both arms around him. It was instinct with their often limited time and energy to be as close as possible whenever the opportunity presented itself, and Albus saw no reason to change this now. He felt Scorpius slide both arms around his middle and let himself melt into the softness of the cushion and the warmth of his husband’s side, just listening to the sounds of their children’s laughter coming in waves from the kitchen and enjoying the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree.

“I guess Orion could be the seventh player on our family Quidditch team if you don’t want to go for a full set of Malfoy-Potters.”

Scorpius chuckled, picking one of the buttons of his shirt and twisting it between his fingers.

“I guess,” Scorpius said before raising up an inch and kissing Albus, who thought snogging his husband while the children figured out how to negotiate the stove seemed like a perfect way to pass the time. Roaming hands and quiet, contemplative sounds from Scorpius told him they were in agreement until Scorpius pulled away a moment later.

“Or… well, let’s revisit the Malfoy-Potter Mooncalves Quidditch Team after Charlie settles in at Hogwarts, yeah?”

There weren’t words enough to contain all the love and hope and contentment Albus felt, and all he could do was kiss him again and ignore the children’s cheers of delight as they discovered the ‘Welcome Home’ cake tucked away in the pantry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! Thanks for making it to the end of this fic with me. I hope you've had a good time. :)
> 
> Thanks one more time to [Slytherin629](https://slytherin629.tumblr.com) for beta-ing and helping with this fic in so many ways.
> 
> Questions, comments and kudos are always appreciated.  
>    
> [Tumblr.](https://ijustwalkintomordor.tumblr.com)


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